Obscura
by ThinkingCAPSLOCK
Summary: Rule number 1: Cool guys never remove their sunglasses.
1. Lens 1

**Obscura ~ Age 5**

_Never take off your glasses._

That was the number one rule of the house. Never remove the shades. Bro never took his off. Dave never took his off. Together they ruled their apartment palace.

Dave never questioned why. He would wear them inside. He would wear them outside. He'd wear them in the goddamn shower because sometimes Bro would pull some weirdass ninja shit _just to see if he was still wearing them_. For fuck's sake, who wears shades in the shower?

But Dave was young and didn't know better and just assumed that this was what all the cool people did. It seemed legit. Cool people wear shades inside. Cool people wear shades at night. So why wouldn't cool people wear shades in the shower?

Sometimes, when he was sure Bro wasn't around, he'd sneak to the bathroom mirror and push his shades up. He had long outgrown the style—stupid pointy anime shades—but had nothing to replace them with. You could almost see where the faded tan on his face met the white skin around his eyes. It had been worse before, when he had gotten an awful sunburn. It had looked like he was wearing goggles.

Dave blinked at his own reflection. It looked so unfamiliar without glasses on.

_So this is what my face looks like_, he thought. He thought this every time. It was always a sort of dull surprise. Not that Dave got surprised, of course—he was too chill for that. He was too chill for a lot of things.

Dave slipped the glasses back on. His ninja sense was tingling and he knew Bro would be home soon. He didn't want to be found without his shades on. He'd look so uncool. He didn't want to look uncool around Bro. Bro was the fucking epitome of cool.

He met Bro in the kitchen.

"Hey man," Bro said, cracking open a can of Faygo. Why Bro liked that shit, Dave never knew. Except that it was sugary and awesome. Dave was too cool to like something for such an obvious reason.

"Sup," said Dave.

Bro smiled a funny half-smirk of a smile and ruffled Dave's platinum hair. "A cute girl just moved in. Wanna meet her?"

"Fuck no," said Dave.

"A man's gotta have his chicks, bro. Life'd be too boring. Besides, man, she looks like one of those hippy artist types. Those are fun."

"Fuck no. You're just trying to sleep with her sister or her mom or something, aren't you."

"Jesus, Dave. What kind of five year old are you?"

"The cool kind, obviously."

"Obviously. Anyway, you're going. It's good to play with other kids, man."

"I'm not a goddamn kid."

"Yes, you fucking are. Now go teach her the ways of cool."

Nevertheless, Bro had to drag Dave out the door. Dave was too cool to throw a tantrum, but he was hella good at bracing himself against various blocks of furniture. If he couldn't win, he might as well make it as difficult for Bro as he could.

He stopped at the doorway of the girl's room. Her black hair was cut short and stylish. She sat beside a sewing machine, lips pursed.

"Hello," she said distantly.

"Yo," said Dave.

"I suppose our respective guardians have decided to copulate, leaving us in a bit of a situation. I am Karina." Every word she spoke was like its own goddamn sentence. She crossed her legs beneath her long red skirt, folding her hands in her lap. "It's rude to wear sunglasses indoors, you know."

"Nah, man, that's a lame rule. I'm too cool for that," Dave replied. There were scraps of fabric around her room. "What are you, uh, making, anyway."

"Right now? A friend requested that I make her a rabbit."

"Cool, cool." Jesus, the way she spoke could drive a guy crazy, and not in the good way. It was so…so…_refined_.

"I would request that you take off your glasses, however. I would like to see your face."

"Man, you can see the important parts. That's all that matters, isn't it."

"Nevertheless, as your host, this is my most formal order."

"Jesus, fine." He pulled his glasses off and folded them over his shirt. "You fucking happy. That was a question, by the way."

"Oh my."

"Yeah, I'm beautiful. I know. No autographs, please."

"Are you a demon?"

"Am I a what." Dave paused, confused.

"I have done the most exclusive research on all that is grimdark. Are you a demon?"

"Fuck no. Why would you think that."

"Your eyes are red."

"So? Your eyes are green."

"Yes, but green is normal in the human spectrum. Red is not. Perhaps you are albino? I doubt it, though."

"What are you talking about."

"Your eyes are very odd."

"No, they aren't. They're fucking normal. Mundane as hell, except they're on my face and my face is as cool as a goddamn iceberg."

"Perhaps I will have to stop you."

"Stop me from what."

"Possessing that poor boy."

"Jegus, I'm not possessing anyone. Ugh, man, you made me screw up my words."

"You're speaking in tongues."

"I'm not speaking in tongues, for fuck's sake." Dave grimaced the kind of grimace only someone fighting back tears could make. Fuck. Crying isn't cool. Cool guys never cry, they just stoically accept things like the chillest of the chill. "Man, I gotta go now."

"I can't allow you to leave."

"Fuck, man, leave me alone. Learn how to speak like a normal girl while you're at it."

"Enunciation is respectable."

"It's fucking creepy. Peace."

Dave slouched out of the room faster than what he thought was cool. He was too confused, he couldn't help it. He would confess his sins of cool to Cal later and all would be forgiven. Probably.

Dave found bro sitting across from some random chick and grabbed his sleeve. "We're leaving."

"We only just got here, bro, chill."

"No, we're leaving right now."

It was at this point that Bro noticed the shades dangling from Dave's shirt collar. "Jesus, Dave, you didn't—"

"I said we're leaving!" Dave shouted. Dave never shouted. Shouting wasn't cool. Cool guys speak in a careful monotony. They show no feelings.

"Okay, Dave. I'm coming."

They moved the next month.


	2. Lens 2

**Oscura ~ Age 14**

John sat at the foot of his bed, positively vibrating with excitement. Dave had finally come to visit and they were going to watch movies like only super awesome brofriends could. Dave was going to teach him to be cool and he was going to teach Dave how to appreciate fine cinema (and long, shaggy hair). They were going to have the. Best. Sleepover. _Ever._

Dave stood in the doorway, looking around the room. "You uh…you really have some issues with clowns, don't you. I thought you liked these." He ran his fingers down the side of the _Problem Sleuth_ poster, frowning slightly at the faded chalk scribbles.

"Er, yeah. We won't talk about that," John said quickly. "We should talk about fun things. How is your DJing going?"

"It's cool man. I have the illest beats. I am like the king of beats, no one can beat me. My beats are so epic I'm on the verge of getting arrested for battery."

"Haha, cool. So, uh, do you want to watch a movie?" John drummed his fingers against the bed nervously. It was one thing to go on a quest with a friend. This was like their first _real_ meeting. The first time they could hang out like buds and not have to worry about running or fighting or dying. They could just _chill_.

"I guess we could watch one of your movies ironically. What's that one you really like. Non-Con Air."

"Con Air, silly. And that'd be great! Oh, man, it's such a good movie. The moment when Nic Cage hands the rabbit to his daughter? I cry so much, every time. You'll cry, too! You're too cool for normal tears, though, they'd be super awesome blocks of ice exploding from behind your shades or something."

"Cool guys never cry, dude. Not even blocks of ice," Dave said. "We're so chill, even ice isn't fucking cold enough. We live in goddamn ice castles and eat snow. That's how chill we are."

"Haha, totally," John said. "We should get some snacks, though. Do you want popcorn?"

"Popcorn tastes like buttered air, man."

"I know, right? It's so delicious! All the salt and butter, it's awesome!" John replied excitedly.

Dave knew John wasn't being ironic. He was being completely and totally honest. It wasn't cool, but it did make him smile a little. It was kind of refreshing to be around someone who meant what he said. Someone who got so excited about such normal things.

"Man, I'm so nervous," John admitted. "It's so cool that we finally get to hang out, I'm terrified that I'm going to do something stupid."

"It's cool," Dave replied. "We've done lots of stupid things already. I don't think anything you could do now would change anything."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I'm just really happy. I can't believe we can finally do something so silly and normal like this. We should totally invite Jade and Rose next time! I mean, I guess Jade lives pretty far away, so it'd be hard for her to come… and Rose might not want to come if it was just guys, but um…"

"They'd come," Dave replied, awkwardly trying to console his friend. He didn't really know what to feel. "They'd come if they could. Jade'd get Bec to pull some space warp shit and pick up Rose and then they'd come here."

"You'd come, too, right, Dave?"

"How could I not."

John chuckled. "You know, I never really expected you to actually ask questions like that."

"Like what."

"Like they aren't questions. It's kind of funny, that's all. It might take a little bit of getting used to, actually."

"Okay." Dave rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Are you tired, Dave?"

Dave glanced at his friend. John looked worried. It nearly made him laugh—an ironic, cool-guy laugh, of course—but laugh nonetheless. "Sorry. It was a long bus ride."

"I'm sorry I made you come all this way. Maybe next time I'll go to your house? I guess it was sort of selfish to just tell you to come all the way here like this."

"What. No. No, it's cool man. My place is filled with those goddamn sex puppets or whatever the hell it is that bro keeps. And we don't have food, we have swords. No, this is cool. Don't worry. You have a nice house."

"Thanks!" John grinned. His face turned pensive. "Hm. Well, if you don't like popcorn, we could go to the store and get some other snacks?"

"No, man, you don't have to bother."

"It's not a bother! I could show you around the neighbourhood."

"A hundred other houses that look exactly like yours. Jegus, it took me forever to find this place."

"Haha, yeah, even I have trouble sometimes. You just have to remember the pogo slime!"

"Man, that thing looks fucking dangerous."

"Yeah, it really is. I have the scars to show for it," John laughed. Dave raised his eyebrows slightly but said nothing. "Anyway, let's go to the store!"

"Lead the way."

x.x.x

John picked up two packs of fruity chewsnacks, trying to decide which had the most sugary goodness. "Hey, Dave, should we get Blueberry Face Explosion or Raspberry Tongue Cutter?"

"Either sounds fine," Dave replied.

"Hm, well, the blueberry—fuck, man. Look at that."

"What."

"Look at that sticker. Goddammit."

"What. Oh." Dave snorted, grinning a lopsided smirk of a grin. "Betty Crocker, eh?"

"She's ruining everything I love, Dave. All of the things. Fucking all of them." John shook his head. "I mean, Fruit Gushers was weird enough, but Fruity Chewsnacks? Jegus."

"I bet she's following you, man. She's like a super-stalker on steroids, all watching you when you go to school and eat cake and sleep."

"Even when I sleep?"

"_Especially_ when you sleep. She sits beside your pillow and whispers cooking instructions to you all fucking night."

"That'd be awful, dude. Can you imagine if—" John stepped back, bumping into a fellow customer. "Oops! Sorry, I didn't realize that you were—"

"How dare you step on my fine shoes!"

"Oh! Edan! Hi! Dave, this is Edan. He goes to my school."

"You lowly peasant! You had better apologize this fucking instant!" Edan screeched. Dave grimaced. The voice was as unpleasant to behold as the idiot hipster's striped pants.

"Damn, man. He already apologized. Lay off," Dave said, stepping in.

"Talking back to me, you lowbred trash?" Edan snarled.

"Jegus, chill out. It was just an accident."

"Yeah, Edan. I'm really sorry. I didn't see you there." John bit his lip anxiously.

"Excuses!" Edan shrieked. His thick rimmed glasses dangled precariously on the tip of his nose, threatening to fall off his pointed face. "How dare you walk on the Earth like this!"

"Hey. I said chill." Dave frowned ever so slightly, indicating he was serious. The gesture was lost on the tousle-haired hipster.

"Oh yeah?" Edan said. "What can you do to me?"

"I can tell you where to buy a better scarf, that's for sure. What, did Hipsters'R'Us have a blowout sale. Gotta tell you, bro, sometimes things are discounted for a goddamn reason."

"This scarf is proof of my _heritage_, you damned mouth-breathing assfuck!"

Without warning, Edan's fist came out of nowhere. Dave saw it, of course—how could he not? After all the years living with Bro, that fist was as slow as a goddamn snail doped up on painkillers. But John hadn't seen it coming and that's what mattered. John, who was standing right the fuck behind Dave, did not have the same kind of weirdass ninja training Dave had. Dave didn't think Edan was all that good on the willpower, either. If Dave moved, John would get hit. It was as simple as that.

Now that Dave thought about it, John probably hadn't been in many fights before. Then again, maybe John was the type to be easily bullied. No, that's not right. John was a dork, but he wasn't an insufferable nerd. He was a normal guy. He probably hadn't been in school fights. SBurb was one thing. Real life was another. John had probably never been punched in his life.

Dave wanted to keep it that way.

_Crack._

"Jesus, Edan, what the fuck are you doing! Why'd you hit him!" John exclaimed. "Fuck! Dave, are you okay? I think your glasses are broken, man, I'm really sorry. I'm really sorry, Dave, this is all my fault. I—I—Edan, why the hell did you do that!"

Edan looked utterly bewildered. "I…I guess I thought he'd move? Look, I don't really know you, I'm sort of sorry. I guess?"

"Just go the fuck away," Dave groaned, holding his hand to his face. "Just go away. I can't understand that garbled accent of yours and it's giving me an assload of headache. Just fuck off, okay."

"Yeah. Yeah, man. I…I guess that was kind of uncalled for or something? I'll just..."

"Edan!" John exclaimed, biting back his anger. "Just go away."

"Peace."

"Dave, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have—I should've watched where I was going, or maybe stocked up before and not dragged you out. I—"

"Just shut up a moment," Dave groaned. "It's not your fault. Don't be stupid. It's that stupid fishy jackass. I just…fuck."

"You shouldn't press against your shades like that when they're broken, you'll get glass in your eye," John warned.

"No, it's fine. Just…shut up…"

"It looked like he hit you pretty hard. Let me see, maybe we can get some ice or something? It'll swell really badly if you don't. How bad is it? Just move your—"

"Jegus, Egbert, just chill out. You're getting all jittery."

"It's okay, Dave, I'm totally calm. See? Caaalm. But let me just see how bad it is, okay? Just take off the—"

"Egbert, don't touch me."

"It's cool, man, just—"

"Egbert, seriously, don't touch me."

"Don't be such a kid, we've been through worse! I just want to see how bad it is. Just move your hand a little, I don't want you to get the glass in your eye," John argued. He reached up to pull Dave's hands away.

"Fuck! I said don't touch me!"

"S-sorry, Dave, I didn't mean to—did I hurt you? I didn't think I pushed or anything, but maybe I—"

"Fuck. No. Just…just shut up. Just…shut up."


	3. Lens 3

**Obscura ~ Age 16**

The meeting was abrupt.

"Hello, David."

Dave stood in the doorway, can of Faygo raised halfway to his lips. "What. What are you doing here."

"I've come to visit you, of course."

"Fuck. No. This isn't happening."

"I'm afraid it is." Rose smiled her sweetest smile, but it came off more as a smirk. "Brother."

"Fuck. No. Go away. I don't want to talk to you." Dave tried to push the door closed, but Rose had pre-emptively jammed her heel between the gap like a doorstop.

"Is that any way to treat your friend?" Rose asked with a slight frowned. "No, I'm wrong. Is that any way to treat your sister?"

"I've done worse," Dave replied, grunting as he tried to shoulder the door closed.

"You're awfully weak, Dave. Are you eating right?"

"For fuck's sake, Rose, I'm trying not to amputate your fucking foot. Want me to kick the fucker closed?"

Rose chuckled. "Calm down, Dave. I'm only here to talk."

"Oh, I know. You're going to fucking psychoanalyze the shit out of what I said to you on PesterChum the other day, aren't you? Fuck, Rose, I was drunk. I didn't know what I was saying."

"That's no good, Dave. We're underage."

"No shit."

"As your sisterfriend, it is my duty to take interest in the goings-on of my brofriend's life. Especially when you tell me something so odd."

"I was drunk. I was drunk. I was fucking drunk, I didn't know what I was saying. I don't think I could even see colours, man, I was that drunk."

"I don't think you were lying. I think you were being very, very honest. I think you're an honest drunk."

"You can't know that. I'm a liar. I'm a lying drunk, I make up lies like a fucking lie bandit. I mislead and bamboozle, baby, that is my deal. I do sleights of hand that'd impress a fucking magician. That is the kind of drunk I am. Also I am the kind that can't see colours."

"You're lying to me, Dave."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Calling me 'Dave.' You never call me Dave. You call me Strider."

"I thought I would be try being more…what's the word…colloquial."

"Yeah. Stop it."

"If you insist, Strider." Rose sighed. "May I come in now? It's rather hot out in the hall and I am under the impression that you are in possession of an AC system."

"I threw it out the fucking window like a shot-put champ. I am the winner. It is me."

"What's that humming I hear, then? Cicadas?"

"Yeah. I fucked up a science experiment and mutated myself some giant fucking cicadas. The Earth belongs to them now."

"Strider, let me in or I swear to Gog I will pull out my nastiest grimdark spell and curse off that appendage you're so fond of."

"You can't do that anymore." But Dave wasn't as sure as he sounded. For all he knew, Rose _could_ curse his dong off and he'd be cockless forever. He stepped back and let her in.

"Thank you." She smirked another smile and stepped inside. "So this is the Strider abode."

"It's my fucking castle. This is where the magic happens. The real, not at all fake magic. Not an ounce of scientific bullshit here, babe."

Rose chuckled. "Calling me 'babe' so often leads me to believe that you may have developed some sort of sister complex over the years following our initial adventure."

"What. Fuck. No. Not even a little bit. I am not in love with you. Fuck. That's disgusting. You're my sister."

"Just an observation." Rose shrugged. "Are these the puppets your brother is so…ah…fond of?"

"Oh Gog. Don't look at those. Your eyes can't handle that number of plush dongs all at once." He paused. "Well, then again, maybe you—"

"If you so much as finish that thought, Strider, you will be dickless for all eternity."

"All I'm saying is that not all the frequenters of Bro's site are old dudes."

"I'm so sure." Rose looked around the kitchen. "Well, I assume you are not about to offer me a seat, so I will have to take one myself. Is that the living room?"

"No. It is the chilling room. It is where we chill."

"Well, I assume you are living while you chill there, so I will call it a living room for the time being nonetheless." Rose strode into the room and sat on the couch across from the TV. "You have a rather impressive number of mechanical contraptions. What are they all for?"

"Music. Gaming. Movies." Dave gestured vaguely around the room. "Does it matter. What do you want, Rose."

"I just want to talk. Sit beside me."

"And let you psychoanalyze me. Fuck off, Freud."

"Strider, this is serious. You sounded really upset when you messaged me."

"I don't get upset. I just get more cool. I level up, bab—man. I am the king of cool, god tier style now. I have my own weirdass windsock hat to prove it."

"Strider."

Dave narrowed his eyes slightly, which of course Rose couldn't see. He sat beside her stiffly. "What."

Rose hesitated. "Is it true?"

"Is what true."

"You know. You remember what you said."

"I don't. Enlighten me."

"Silly Strider." Rose slapped Dave playfully on the cheek. Well, playfully to _her_. Dave gave an annoyed grunt. "You say you don't remember when you clearly do. If you didn't, you wouldn't have tried to shove me out the door."

"Don't be so sure," Dave replied.

"Don't be sullen, Strider." Rose leaned back and the slippery leather of the couch gave an awkward squeak.

"I am not sullen. I am awesome. Sullen is not awesome and I am therefore the exact opposite of sullen."

"Dave."

"Seriously, stop that. It feels really gross when you say it, like some sort of slime ghosts from one of Egbert's shitty movies decided today was the day to give me a proctolo—"

"I'm going to stop you right there because I don't really want to hear the end of that story. Also you're changing the subject."

"Is it that transparent."

"Your sarcasm is lacking in its potency today. Are you still all cut up inside from the hurtiness that is your demon peepers?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just so goddamn sad that, oh no, my eyes are all different and shit. Too bad I didn't have a million after school specials to tutor me on how differences are what make kids into special little snowflakes. Oh wait."

"Okay. I admit I went a little far there." Rose touched his arm. Dave had to suppress a grimace. He forced himself to keep from getting up and walking away. "It's really not that big of a deal. In retrospect, it kind of makes sense, really."

"Oh yeah. Totally makes sense. How did I not see it before. You've really opened my eyes. My soulless, soulless eyes."

"Stop being an idiot. It really doesn't matter as much as you think it does."

"Really, Rose. It doesn't matter. You can't see one little problem with it at all."

She sighed wearily. "Well, it doesn't matter to _me._ It doesn't matter to John, either, you know."

"Fuck. You told Egbert. That's great. Thanks for that. I will make note to throw a fucking parade."

"Don't be a dumpass. You know that he knew already."

"No shit. Like I could really forget that."

"You're blowing this out of proportion, Strider. Honestly, neither of us think it's that surprising. I don't think Jade would care, either. Actually, she'd probably think it'd just make you _more_ cool—as if you need that."

"Your cheap flattery disgusts me. I am disgusted. Disgusted is me."

"Dammit, Strider. Shut up and listen to me for once. We're your friends. You don't have to hide when you're around us."

"Do I look like I'm hiding. I am sitting right here fucking next to you, aren't I. You're touching my goddamn arm. Yeah, I am so totally hiding right now. I am like a ninja in the fucking ceiling. I am a master of disguise. You have been talking to a recording stuffed down Cal's fucking throat for the past ten minutes thinking it was me. I am now in Mexico."

"Shut up, Strider."

"Rose, what do you want from me. Do you want me to cry on your shoulder and talk about how hideous I am. Because I won't. I'm not. I am a badass motherfucker and I am beautiful as the morning goddamn sun. I am so beautiful, I need to wear shades to keep my own beauty from blinding me, let alone the other fuckasses I look at."

"I just want you to stop bottling up all those emotions. It's not healthy."

"What are emotions. I am a goddamn machine. Greasy food and music are all I need to fuel me."

"Don't be a dick. Even cool guys have feelings."

"No, Rose. No, they don't. The live in a land where only ill beats and shitty strobe lights exist, playing their tunes all day long and living for sound."

Rose shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, Strider."

"For what."

"For this."

And then, quick as a cat, she whipped off his sunglasses.


	4. Lens 4

**Obscura ~ Age 3**

_The first rule of cool is to never remove your shades, little guy._

Little Dave sat beside his brother on the couch, kicking his legs. His oversized sweater hung from his tiny body like a bag, the heart on the front nearly at his knees.

"Got that, kiddo?"

"Why?" said Dave. It was one of the few words he could actually articulate.

"Because cool guys never reveal what they're thinking. Do you know how people reveal what they're thinking?"  
>"Why?" said Dave, obviously meaning <em>how<em> but unable to grasp the difference quite yet.

"With their eyes, man. They're the window to the soul. And your peepers are extra special."

"Why?"

"Because you are a fucking wizard of cool, that's why."

"Fuck," repeated Dave.

"That's my boy. Promise me you'll never take them off, okay?"

"Why?"

"Not everyone is as cool as we are, bro. We are the illest of the ill. Normies wouldn't understand."

"Why?"

"Because they aren't us."

"Why?"

"For fuck's sake, Dave, I'm trying to teach you a lesson."

Dave played with the fraying hem of the sweater. "Fuck," he repeated. "Fuck. Fuck."

Bro chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair. "Careful, man. Your level of cool is about to skyrocket."

"Fuck. Why? Fuck."

At this point, Bro was overcome by a fit of laughter and had to get up. "Yo, want a drink?"

"Drink," said Dave. "Drink. Drink!"

Bro poured a can of Faygo into a plastic sippy cup and handed it over. "Here, man. Good for the soul." Dave took a couple of sips before the cup slipped from his hands and bounced over the black leather cushions of the couch. It rolled to a stop near the end, dribbling neon-purple soda onto the carpet.

"Fuck," said Dave. Bro laughed.

"It's cool, man. That's what carpets are for, anyway." Bro sat beside him again. "Want to watch cartoons? I know a show you'll love. It's full of awesome sunglasses and bigass robots."

"Fuck," said Dave. "Fucking shitty anime."

"Exactly," said Bro. And then he flipped on the TV.


	5. Lens 5

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

_Aren't you often distracted?_

_ Have you ever looked into the sky without your shades?_

_ Maybe you should try it sometime._

What a stupid question. How distracting can a pair of sunglasses be? For fuck's sake, you wear shades so that you can look into the sky without burning out your goddamn retinas.

Dave sighed. Why would he take his shades off for such a lame reason? Cool guys never take off their glasses. Yeah, Dave was too cool for that. There could be a goddamn explosion behind him right now and all he'd do is walk away in slow motion like a fucking hero.

But…

Dave wasn't a hero, was he?

He was just a kid. A kid that didn't want to be there. As much as Dave hated to admit it, he wasn't cut out for the hero business. He didn't want to die.

Well, it's not like he hadn't done that before. Seeing your dead body there in front of you never loses its surreal quality. Even now, Dave would just stare blankly at the corpses he came across. Whole piles of them were strewn about sometimes. He thought he had died in almost every fucking way possible by now.

Stabbed Daves. Drowned Daves. Decapitated Daves.

All with their goddamn glasses on.

Dave suddenly made an odd noise in the back of his throat and stepped back. Shit. This wasn't cool. Why would he bother with that now? They were just fucking puppets. That's all they were, really. Doomed Daves. They weren't Alpha Dave and that was all that mattered. There can't be more than one Alpha Dave. As long as he was alive, he could win this fucking game and never have to see another self-corpse again. He could live his life out like a normal fucking person.

You see, time travel has its own issues. Dave had realized this right away, of course, being the Knight of Time. He had begun to wonder how long this game would last. Did the lifespans of the Doomed Daves count towards his as well? If 365 Doomed Daves lived one day a piece, did that make him a year older, even though he himself had only lived a day?

It was best to just not think about it. Personally, Dave believed that only the time spent as Alpha Dave was what counted towards his overall lifespan. The Doomed Daves were puppets, he told himself again. They knew what they were, too. It was awful, yeah, but he could accept it. They would die no matter what he did. Unless, of course, he made stable time loops.

Then again, accidents happen.

And then…there was always that _other_ thought in the back of his mind.

What exactly was the difference between the Doomed Daves and Alpha Dave? He had always assumed that Alpha Dave was the one that just kept living, obviously, but…

What if Alpha Dave kept changing? What if Alpha Dave wasn't the one that kept living all along, but it was just the Doomed Dave that happened to live a little bit longer? It was impossible to know. All Daves had the same memory from the point they were created. Hell, he could be a Doomed Dave right now and just not know it. He would keep running around doing random shit until he got into a fight and split his timeline again. Then there would be two Doomed Daves, except only one would die right then. The other would become Alpha Dave and take over.

And it would by no means be guaranteed to be him, the Dave standing right there, right now, staring straight at that goddamn Pesterlog with Rose lecturing him on not being able to see clearly.

Dave could see pretty damn clearly. That didn't mean he wanted to. He was perfectly fucking okay with not taking off his shades. It didn't matter that no one was around to see him. It was a matter of principle by now and he was going to stick to it.

He paused. Then again, as much as he hated to admit it, Rose knew a lot. Like a _lot_ a lot. As much as her psychobabble was full of shit, she could get pretty accurate sometimes. She always came off as stuffy and pretentious, but she _was_ his paradox sister. She might understand things he didn't.

Dave only really understood time, after all—and barely.

He glanced up at the endless sky. _I'm not a fucking hero_, he thought. _I'm not a fucking hero._

_ I'm just a kid._

_ I'm just a goddamn kid in a fucked up world and I'm one of like four humans left in this hellhole of a world._

_ I just want to go home._

_ I just want to play video games with Bro again._

_ I want to impress Jade and argue with Rose and talk about shitty movies with Egbert (ironically)._

_ I want to eat week old pizza and fall asleep on the couch and make music._

_ Fuck, I even want to see Bro's god awful fucking ugly ass puppets._

_ Fuck, I even miss Cal._

_ I'm just a kid._

_ I want to go home._

_ I'm not a hero._

He rubbed the hem of his shirt roughly with his thumbs. He was very aware of the sound of his own breathing, the feel of the air in his lungs. It was rather uncomfortable and for a minute he almost forgot how. He just stood there, airless, watching his chest twitch along with his heartbeat.

Dead Daves don't have heartbeats.

Dave breathed again. He breathed and looked up at the sky again.

What could it hurt?  
><em>I'm not a hero,<em> Dave thought as he lifted his hands to his face.

_I'm not a hero,_ he thought as he slowly pulled the glasses off.

_I'm not a hero,_ he thought as he felt the warm air on his face, the stinging in his eyes at the sudden light.

_I'm not a hero._

But then a tiny voice in the back of his mind replied to him.

_You're not a hero,_ it said, _but you could be._


	6. No Matter What

**Guest Chapter**

**Obscuro ~ Age 20**

Her words were daggers, but he would never admit it. His face was a shield of stone, encased with the darkness of the shades still perched on his nose.

"Just take them off! We've been together for two years and I respected it for ages, Dave, but I just once want to see your eyes!"

But again the answer had to be no, because he didn't take off his shades. Who wanted to see the boy with the demented eyes? Who wanted to be friends with the guy with the eyes that seared and burned?

"I already told you, they don't leave my face. I thought you wanted a cool boyfriend."

She didn't like that reply one bit, and her anger swelled. He could see it behind the normality of her eyes. He wasn't jealous. He had given up on envying others by now. It was pointless. It didn't change anything. And he had the shades.

No matter what.

"Dammnit, Dave, stop with the cool shit! Does it mean that much to you? Do those damn shades mean more to you than I do?"

He wasn't really sure if they were in love or if it was just something stupid. They were in their early twenties, and it had been two years. She made him happy. He thought that the feeling was mutual.

Did he like the shades more than her?

"They're just glasses."

The hand shot out, but he reacted on instinct instead of thought. Her fingers were curled in, not going for a slap but for a grab. She wanted them off his face, and that was something that deep down, he knew he couldn't allow. He tried to speak again as she pulled back her arm with a harsh movement.

"Listen-"

But her eyes showed she was beyond listening.

"No, Dave! I'm sick of this! I can't do this anymore! Do you know what it's like to talk to you? You barely have expressions, and I don't even know when you're looking at me! I don't even know if you love me!"

He didn't know if he loved her, either.

"I'm not going to take them off."

Perhaps it was foolish to admit, but it was more of a statement to himself than to her. Maybe they had something. Maybe he could wait for a girl who would never let him take off the shades, who would be all right with never seeing half of his face.

"Dave..."

With that word, with the way her face twisted, he knew she thought he was selfish. He felt something twinge inside himself, but cool people didn't feel guilt or sadness. Especially when it came to the shades.

The resolve formed in her face as she stared into the black sheet over his eyes, and tears crystallized in the corners of her eyes.

"Goodbye."

At first, she was frozen, but then she spun, grabbing her purse with a frantic movement. He watched her go, her hair flowing behind her as she ran upstairs and grabbed her sweater. Her eyes were red by the time she was downstairs, and his dismissal was thick like the tears on her cheeks.

She turned and looked like she wanted to speak. But as she hesitated at the door, all that came out was a small sob.

His face was a wall. His eyes were hidden. His emotions were deep inside. This is how cool people acted, after all. They were the ones who ended relationships. They were the ones who could break hearts.

The door slammed. The house was empty and all he heard was his own goodbye, echoing in the apartment.

After all, the first rule was to never take off the glasses. No matter what.


	7. Lens 7

**Obscura ~ Age 14**

"Just lean on me."

"Fuck, I don't need you to hold my goddamn hand all the way back."

"I know it's not very cool, but you can't see, can you? It's just for a little while. Persevere!"

"Fuck."

"If it's really bad, just take your glasses off. That will help, won't it?"

"Hell no. I'm never taking these off."

"Don't be such a dumkass."

"It's the rule of cool, bro."

"I think you're being stupid."

"Stupid is lame. I'm fucking awesome." Dave gave a grunt as they stepped off the sidewalk, gritting his teeth as he stumbled a few steps.

"Sorry! I forgot to tell you there was a step."

"No shit."

"Aw, damn. It looks like my dad went out. That's okay, I think I know where everything is."

"Shit, Egbert, don't worry about it."

"Of course I'm going to worry! Your nose is turning purple already."

"It fucking is not."

"Geez, just relax a bit, Dave." John bit his lip. "No, actually, I should be sorry. You took that punch for me, didn't you? I'm really sorry. This is—"

"Egbert, I swear to Gog, if you fucking say that this is your fault one more fucking time, _I _will be the one to fucking punch you."

"Dave…"

"Shit, sorry, no, I didn't mean that at all. I didn't mean that even a little fucking bit I just...fuck."

"No, it's okay. Look, we're here. Can you stand?"

"Yeah, of course I can. That fuckass didn't break my legs, jegus."

"Okay, I opened the door. If you take a big step you might be able to—fuck, sorry Dave! Are you okay? I didn't realize you'd trip like that."

"This is so uncool."

"It's okay! I don't think anyone saw. Did you hurt your knee?"

"Fuck. No. I'm fine."

"Here, sit on the couch. I'll go get some ice."

Dave quickly grabbed John's sleeve. "No. Don't. Just call Bro. It's fine."

"What? Dave, he's like three hours away. It's cool, we can take care of it."

"No, John, just call him. It'll be fine."

"Dave, do you really want to leave that badly? I mean, I know this hasn't gotten off to a great start, but… Well, I guess I can understand. A cool guy like you probably got bored of—"

"No, shut up. Stop saying shit like that. I'm not—jegus, you don't understand. Fuck."

"I can't understand if you don't tell me," John laughed nervously. He quickly added, "Stop, you're pressing to hard. I was serious about getting glass in your eye, I'm really worried about that."  
>"It's fine, just—"<p>

"I'm not calling Bro!" John gave a little gasp at the tone of frustration in his own voice. He hadn't meant to sound like that at all. "Shit, I'm sorry, Dave, I just… I don't understand this at all. I thought you wanted to come and hang out?"

"I…I do. This isn't about that at all. Fuck, I don't know how to make you understand. It's not about you at all."

"Are you breaking up with me?" John joked.

"What. What the hell are you talking about."

"I…it just sounded like the 'it's not you, it's me' thing and—never mind, I was being stupid. I'll stop."

"No, don't stop. Keep being stupid. Keep being Egbert. I just—I need to breathe for a minute. It's really hot in here."

"I can turn on the AC if you want."

"Yeah, that…can you do that? That'd be good."

"Yeah, not problem. I'll be right back."

Dave leaned back against the soft blue fabric of the couch, breathing heavily. He could feel his heart beating painfully in his chest. This was not cool. Cool guys aren't scared. Cool guys are suave. They don't give a shit. They don't care.

The problem was that Dave really _did_ care. He cared what John thought.

"Dave, I turned it on. It'll take a little while for the house to cool down, though."  
>"Yeah, that's fine."<p>

"I brought some ice, too."

"Shit, no, you didn't have to do that."

"Don't be a dumpass! You'll regret it tomorrow if you just leave it."

Dave felt the couch shift as John sat down beside him. "Really, Egbert, it's fine. Here, just give it to me and I'll do it." Dave groped around awkwardly in the air for a moment until John grabbed his arm and thrust the bag of ice into his hand. "Thanks, man." He held it to his face. Maybe this would work. Maybe John wouldn—

"Dave, take off your glasses. This is silly."

"A cool guy doesn't—"

"Doesn't take off his glasses, yeah, I know. I get it, Dave, you're cool. You don't have to prove it to me! I know already! No one else is home. Just take off the glasses for once."

Dave bit his lip. "Egbert, you just don't get it."

"Explain it to me! Please, Dave, I'm a little worried."

It took a lengthy inner battle to force out the words. "I…I can't take them off."

"Because you're cool. Jegus, Dave, ser—"

"No. I really fucking _can't_ take them off."

"Why? Did you superglue them to your face?" John laughed shakily. "I did that once when I was trying to pull one of Sassacre's master pranks. The glitter wouldn't come off my hand for a month. It was less than a victory."

"No, Egbert. Jegus. They aren't fucking stuck to my face."

"Then what? I don't get it."

"Look, I just…I can't… Okay, just listen to me for a minute and don't…don't _do_ anything. Just listen." He took a deep, wavering breath. "You can't see my eyes, okay. Don't ask why. Just…just accept that. Please."

"Dave, I don't know why you're so worried, but if it's like that then why don't you just close your eyes and take off your glasses? I promise I won't make you open them or anything."

Dave paused. He hadn't considered that. "Fuck. I'm an idiot."

John chuckled, then thought better of it. "Sorry. It's just weird to hear you say that. It's really unlike you. But you're not an idiot, Dave! I'm sure you're just really stressed right now, for whatever reason."

"Fuck."

"I'm going to take your glasses off now, okay? Close your eyes."

Dave scrunched up his eyes, ignoring the dull stinging sensation it caused around his cheeks and nose. John carefully pulled the shades—or rather, what was left of them—away and put them on the coffee table.

"Hehe."

"Fuck. Fuck. What. What do you see."

"Your eyebrows. I don't think I've seen them before. It's funny."

"Fuck, Egbert, of course I have eyebrows."

"I know that! It's not like I didn't think you had any! Here, hold this in place. I'll go get a towel to wrap the ice in, it'll make it easier to hold."

Dave lifted the bag of ice to his face again, dabbing it gingerly against the gradually darkening bruise. The plastic rubbed against his skin uncomfortably and he hoped that John would return with the towel soon. His hand was getting pretty damn cold, too.

"Here. Can you wrap it? I guess not. Give it to me and I'll do it." Dave felt the bag being pulled from his numb fingers.

"Thanks," said Dave.

John was still making nervous chuckling noises. "It's so weird seeing your eyebrows, I can kind of see the expressions you're making now. Well, except your face is sort of swollen. That makes it a bit harder."

"Fantastic," Dave says. "You now know I am not the perfect robot. I have fucking emotions."

"Shut up, man. I know you're not a machine. I'm just telling you, it is _sooo_ weird to actually see your face. It almost makes me wonder what your eyes look like!" John then added quickly, "Just kidding!"

Dave's mouth tightened into a thin line. His arm was starting to feel weak from holding the bag up for so long. The throbbing in his face made him want to just go to sleep.

"Do you want a different towel? This one is starting to get sort of damp. I think the ice is melting." John took the bag back. "I think you're supposed to alternate between ice and no ice every few minutes, too. Take a break. I'll be right back."

Dave tried to make himself more comfortable, settling back into the couch. He breathed deeply. Slowly. It was okay, even though he didn't have glasses on. It would be fine. As long as he didn't open his eyes, it wouldn't even matter. Once the swelling went down, he could borrow a pair of shades from John and they could watch shitty movies like they were supposed to. They could forget this ever even happened. John would never know.

Later, Dave cursed himself for being such an idiot. It had been hard enough to keep his eyes closed like that normally. The flickering changes in light definition begged for him to open his eyes. He blinked way more than he ever would if they were open, eyes shut but eyelids twitching like rabid squirrels. He should have known.

The sudden cold against his face was an icy slap to his brain. He jumped in his seat, eyes suddenly wide open, every fibre of his being expecting danger. Except there was no danger, there was just John, looking just as surprised as he felt, holding that stupid bag of ice. John, who was now looking Dave _right in the goddamn eye_ because he didn't think his friend would be so startled. Dave tried to shield his eyes with his hand but they both knew it was too late.

_Instinct is a fucking bitch._


	8. Lens 8

**Obscura ~ Age 9**

"David, please take off your sunglasses."

"No."

"David. It's rude to wear them indoors. You don't want to disrespect your fellow classmates, do you?"

"No," said Dave, "but I'm still not taking them off. It's the rule of cool, ma'am."

Ms. Fern sighed and shook her head. Her bangles jingled quietly at her wrists as she put her hands on her hips. "Please stay after class."

"Sure," said Dave.

x.x.x.x.

"David, I know you're a good kid. I just don't know why you're being like this."

Dave shrugged. "I dunno. I'm just a wizard of cool, I guess."

"I think I might have to talk to your parents."

Dave shrugged again. "You can try. I don't think it'll go well."

"What do you mean?" She pursed her lips, a look of concern flitting across her pretty face.

"I don't have parents."

"You don't? Who takes care of you, then?"

"Bro."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah."

"I would like to arrange to meet with him, then. You're not in trouble, David. I just think it's in your best interest if I meet with him."

Dave shrugged. He really didn't care. He thought she was lying. She didn't like the shades. No teachers liked the shades—especially on a nine-year-old. It wasn't unusual for one to want to drag Bro down to the school and bitch at him. He was used to it by now.

"Would it be possible to have him meet me here after school tomorrow?"

Dave shrugged. He did that a lot. It was too much of an effort to give an actual answer. He didn't even know if Bro could make it. It wasn't unusual for Bro to be called in for a meeting, but it also wasn't unusual for him to skip out. Making money was more important. Dave understood that. It was the teachers who didn't.

They had to eat somehow.

"Please deliver this message to him. I'm a little worried, Dave."

Whatever. Dave shrugged one last time, took the pristine envelope and slouched out of the classroom.

.x.x.x.x.

To Dave's dull surprise (cool kids are never actually surprised. They only raise their eyebrows ironically), Bro actually made it. He even wore a tie. It looked like he was trying to come off as respectable, but Dave thought it was just so that he'd have a shot at Ms. Fern. Even Dave could tell she was one hell of an exotic beauty.

"Hello, Mr. Strider," said Ms. Fern.

"Hello," said Bro.

"David, do you mind waiting out in the hall for a little while? I promise I'll make this quick."

Dave said nothing. He just strode coolly out into the hall and sat on the wooden bench at the side. He waited as Ms. Fern closed the door behind him. He heard her pull out a chair. He heard Bro do the same.

"David won't remove his sunglasses in class."

To Dave's frustration, he could clearly hear everything. What happened to soundproofing? Gog. What a shitty school this was.

"Is that a problem?" he heard Bro ask. Bro was being polite. He was only polite when he wanted something. Dave smirked.

"I'm a little worried. I'm also afraid it violates the dress code."

"Really? They're just shades."

"You have to look at it from my perspective, Mr. Strider. I can't tell if he's sleeping behind those shades. I'm supposed to at least_ try_ to get everyone a proper education. The early years are crucial in development, you know."

"Yeah."

"Is there any way you could talk to him about it?"

Dave listened to the long pause. He felt annoyed. What a nosy bitch.

"Look," Bro said slowly, "I understand why it might be frustrating to you. Hell, it's hard for me, too."

"You're wearing sunglasses, too, Mr. Strider."

"It's a necessity for my job."

"Your job?"

"DJing mostly. I need it with all the fancy strobelights clubs seem to love nowadays. Besides, with flashstepping, one mistake and you're in for a world of pain."

"Flashstepping?"

"Never mind, DJ lingo. It doesn't matter. Anyway, it does make him hard to read, I know. But he wears them for a reason, you see?"

"A reason?"

Dave's heart gave a painful lurch. Was Bro going to tell? No way. Bro'd never betray him like that. Then again, Ms. Fern was pretty damn gorgeous. She had an accent to die for and hair to her ass. She wore colourful clothes and glittering jewelry There was no way Bro could resist a chance at such a sweet girl.

"Yes. You see, when he was a kid, he was in an accident. It left him with a bit of a scar. It's not major, mind you, but he's really self conscious about it. The shades help him feel like he fits in. It's hard for kids, you know?"

"Is that true?"

"Yeah, it was pretty bad. Plus, we're always moving around. I'm not exactly in a really stable line of business." Bro gave a barking laugh. It made Dave feel sick to hear him talk like that. Like he was _normal_. Bro wasn't normal. Bro was Bro. He was cool. He swore and made crude jokes and could bust out the illest rhymes anyone had ever heard. He was a genius. This felt fake.

He nearly laughed. An ironic, bitter laugh of course. Cool guys don't laugh. They give slight smiles of approval. Smiles other people would miss. Smiles only other cool guys would notice. No, this laugh was a laugh at how stupid this whole situation was. Of _course_ Bro felt fake. He was _being_ fake. He had just lied about some tragic incident. He could hear Bro rattling off a list of false details he had made up on the spot. Some of them he had heard before. It wasn't the first time Bro had been made to make up a story like this to cover for him.

Dave should have known Bro would never betray him.

"The shades are like, his protection, you know? If you make him take them off, he'll just get really depressed. It's hard enough, him having to live on such a weak salary. I worry every day. We once lived off of ramen noodles for a month, like some kind of deprived college kid. It was awful. But he didn't complain. Well, not much. He's a good kid, he really is."

It felt weird to hear Bro saying things like that. Did Bro even feel that way? Nah, it was probably all just a story. Most of the things Bro told other adults were stories. Dave could write a fucking book filled with all the stories Bro told. It would be called "Lies." He fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. The bench was hard. Was the wood even real? It looked more like plastic. Fuck. This school was so shitty it couldn't even afford wooden benches. Lame.

"So, can you find it in your heart to accept the shades?"

"I don't know, Mr. Strider. If I say yes this time, all the other children…"

"This is a special case."

"I know, I know. I want to help, but…"

Dave had heard that line before. Dozens of times. It usually came almost exactly one hour before Bro announced they were going on some sort of weird adventure.

And the adventure would, without a doubt, always end with them moving to some new place. Dave was tired of hopping apartments. Cool guys didn't need _friends_ or anything that lame, but it would be kind of nice to stay in one place for longer than a few months. It's not like Bro was out of work; he may have downplayed it for the teacher, but flashstepping was a serious asset in the DJ business. Bro was one of only three people in the world who were capable, and the other two lived in Russia and China. He was kind of a big deal.

"I understand. Thank you for your time. You know, you have the loveliest accent…"

Dave wanted to groan. Now that he knew it was a lost cause, Bro had decided to go for broke.

"Thank you. I come from the coast. My husband enjoys it, also."

Dave smirked. Shot down in a single sentence.

"Cool, cool. Well, see you around. It was nice meeting you."

Bro took it like a man. He laughed cheerfully (he had perfected his fake laugh years ago, to be used around adults he needed to fool) and opened the door.

Bro looked down at Dave. Dave looked up at Bro. They couldn't see each other's eyes, but they both instinctively knew that there was some disappointment there.

"Sorry, bro," Bro said.

"Yeah, man. I know." Dave shrugged. He wanted to show Bro that he didn't care.

Except he did. A lot.

And Bro cared, too.

Bro smiled a lopsided, half-hearted smirk of a smile. "So I hear California is nice this time of year…"


	9. Lens 9

**Obscura ~ Age 17**

"Whoa. What the hell are you doing here."

"Gee, Dave! That's a great way to greet an old friend!"

"No, no, sorry. I just mean…wow. How the hell did you get here. Doesn't the plane trip take like two years or something."

"Two days, dumpass!" Jade grinned toothily. "But only because of stops in other countries. It's impossible to get a direct flight! Anyway, I didn't take the plane."

"You didn't."

"Of course not! I didn't need to."

"You didn't."

Jade looked down at the white dog sitting at her feet. "Bec took me, of course. Oh, poor Bec. He looks exhausted! I guess I can't go pick up Rose and John. Darn! I thought we could all have a reunion. Sorry, Dave."

"Sorry. For what."

"It looks like it's just going to be us, unless the others live nearby…?"

"What. Egbert lives three hours a way, I guess. But I don't really mind. Are you cool with that, though. I mean, we've got puppets all over the fucking house. And swords in the fridge. And—"

"Geez, Dave, I don't care about that. I've learned as much from you on Pesterlog! It's not like I'm _totally_ unaware of what's in the house!"

"Sorry."

Jade laughed. "Stop apologizing! It doesn't matter. But can I come in? I think Bec is really thirsty. It's pretty warm out in the hall, too, I never realized it was this hot where you lived. No wonder you were fine on Lohac!"

"Uh…yeah. Yeah, sure, come in." Dave was a little thrown by her casual mention of Lohac. To him, it had all become a bad dream.

Jade led Bec into the house. The dog promptly collapsed on the floor, whining.

"I know you're tired, Bec. Sorry! I should have known it was too soon to put practice into play!"

Bec gave a bark.

"Oh, that's good. I hope you feel better soon, then."

Dave watched the two have their bizarre conversation in silence. It had all happened so suddenly. He wasn't sure he was ready to talk to Jade so soon. He wasn't prepared at all.

_You've had four years, dumpass. How much longer did you want_, a voice in the back of his head said. He told it to kindly shut the fuck up.

"Dave?"

"What." Dave flinched, startled.

"Can I have a bowl of water for Bec?"

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure." Dave turned to the kitchen cabinets and pulled out a shallow dish. He filled it with cold water from the tap and put it beside Bec.

"Thanks, Dave!"

"No problem."

Jade was now casually looking around the room. She was being polite, Dave thought. She really wanted to run around and examine everything she could find. He bet she had a million questions.

Instead, they just stood in silence while Bec lapped up some water. The dog gave a contented grunt and curled up on the spot.

"So, uh…" Dave said finally. "Barring any unforeseen puppet events—which I'll just apologize for now and get out of the way—do you want me to show you around, or…"

"Yeah! That sounds great! I'd love to see the cool kid's apartment!"

Damn, Jade's cheery attitude was infectious. It almost made him smile. Instead, he did the cool-guy ironic smirk. That was pretty close. The subtle smile. He couldn't sure, but he thought the twinkly look in her eyes meant she noticed.

"Well, over here we have some sound equipment."

"Oh! Will you rap for me, Dave?"

"Uh, maybe some other time. Not that my beats aren't ill, it's just I've got this one song I really want you to hear, but it's not ready yet."

"Oh? Can you show me what you have done, then? I promise I won't say anything until it's done!"

"Nah, man, you've gotta hear the full thing. And when you do, it's gonna be fucking awesome."

"You'll be the big man!"

"I will do all the music. All the music will belong to me."

"Haha, careful, Dave, you'll fly away! I'll have to get a ruler to see how much air you're getting!"

"Damn, yeah, you will. Don't forget that the skinny end goes _up_."

"Haha, yes!"

Dave was suddenly amused by how obvious it was that Jade and John were paradox siblings now. They both got all vibratey when they got excited. Jade was looking everywhere now. She had figured out Dave really didn't care if she just started picking things up and looking at them. She didn't need to ask permission like she was in some sort of fucking schoolhouse.

"Dave, Dave, what's this?" she asked happily, picking up a record. "The guy on the cover looks really funny!"

"Nah, man, nah, that's Funk Legend Bob. Bro uses him in all of his cuts when he DJs. His music is really good for transitions."

"Can you show me how to DJ, Dave? That'd be soo cool!"

"Yeah, sure. Let me show you my equipment. I can't flashstep yet, though."

"Flashstepping? Is that some kind of super cool DJ kid lingo?"

"Yeah, something like that. It's what Bro does. We made that name up ages back. It's like when you combine weirdass ninja shit and mixing songs. It's really cool to watch, but hard to explain and _hella_ hard to learn."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry, Dave! I bet you'll master it in no time! You are the king of sick beats, after all!"

"Yeah, man. My beats are so ill they've gotta go in the goddamn hospital. Beep, beep, ambulance here. Gotta drive you bitches to Emerg."

"Dave, you're so silly!"

It took a lot to suppress the little smile he felt trying to spread across his lips.

"So, DJing is like this…"

Dave spent almost an hour showing her the different parts of the equipment, how to change records, how to make various scratching noises. Jade listened with rapt attention, asking all sorts of unexpected questions and nodding along so furiously that her long hair went everywhere.

"That's so cool, Dave! I can't believe this exists."

"Yeah, I'm pretty damn impressive."

"So impressive!"

"So, uh…what do you want to do now. I guess I could find a movie or something. I have a lot of John's shitty movies, he keeps sending them to me to watch ironically."

"I would love to watch a movie ironically!" Jade replied. "I'm not really sure how you do that, though."

"It's pretty much the same as watching it normally, just with all sorts of extra levels."

"Sounds hard!"

"Nah, you get used to it. What do you want to watch."

"Oh, how about this one? Dave talks about it a lot, right?"

"Ha. Yeah, that one is his favourite."

So Dave slid the disc for Con Air into the player and they sat together on the couch. During the opening scene, Dave wondered briefly if he should pull the old yawn-and-hug routine. Gog. Why would he do that? That was so lame. Only lame kids did that. No, if Jade wanted him to hold her, she'd probably do something, right? He didn't want to push his luck.

It was only at the dumbest part in the movie, the part with the rabbit and Casey that John was always imitating, that Jade leaned on him, clutching at his arm. She sniffled. Was she actually crying at this? She was more like John than he thought. It kind of made him want to laugh. Even though they grew up apart, it was almost scary how much they were alike. There was a point for nature over nurture if there ever was one.

He wondered if he was like Rose. No, definitely not. He wasn't like Rose at all. Aside from maybe their deadpan delivery of—well, everything—he didn't think they were very similar at all.

"Thanks for showing me that, Dave," Jade sniffed at the end. Her voice was still shakey from holding in sobs. She wiped the tears away with her sleeve quickly. "Cool guys never cry, eh?"

"Nope. Never," Dave agreed.

"So there aren't tears behind those shades of yours?"

"Not a single tear. I don't even have fucking tear ducts, man, that's how cool I am."

"I guess I'm not that cool," Jade laughed. "I couldn't stop crying! It was so sad!"

"You don't need to be cool, Jade. You're perfect the way you are." He paused. Shit. That sounded so corny. He was the fucking king of lame and Jade would—

"Haha, Dave, you're so sweet." She leaned on his shoulder and closed her eyes. "Hey…Dave?"

"Yeah." Dave wasn't used to this. People didn't just come up and _touch_ him. It felt weird having Jade so close. He could feel her breathing against his arm. He suddenly didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to rest his head on top of hers? No, that'd be too awkward a position. Fuck. Why didn't they teach this at school? This was fucking important and Dave was going to screw it up.

"When are you going to let me see your eyes?"

This threw him. "Uh. What."

"Rose and John have seen them, right?"

"Shit. Shit. Did they tell you that." Dave was panicking harder now. What was he going to do? He didn't want to hurt Jade's feelings. It must be weird being the odd one out of the group, too—he didn't need to imagine that. He just…just wasn't _ready_ for her to know.

"Yeah. Not directly! They just sort of said it in passing. I think it was an accident."

"Shit. What did they tell you."

"Nothing! It just made me curious." Jade frowned. "Sorry, Dave, that was really rude of me. It's your business if you show me or not. I shouldn't bug you about it. Besides, cool guys always wear their glasses!"

"Shit. Okay. Um." Dave was running through the possibilities in his mind. What would she do if he took them off? Would she run away? No, she probably wouldn't. Fuck, she'd probably say they were cool. Maybe he could say they were contacts. No, that was stupid.

What if she left?

He bit his lip—ironically, of course. What was he going to do? Shit. Shit. Shit. He had to think of something fast.

"Okay, look. I…I'm not going to take them off."

"I know. I went too far. It's really fine with me if you don't take them off."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Because you will."

"What."

"Eventually, I mean. For someone really special to you."

Dave wanted to ask if it was her but that might give away too much. Maybe she already knew? But what if she didn't?

"Shit. Okay. Just listen. I might—_might_—one day take off my shades, just for you. But not yet. I can't…I can't be sure."

"Can't be sure of what?"

"I just… Can we drop it. I promise that I'll consider maybe one day taking them off. Maybe. But…jegus, it's really hard. I can't explain it to you, okay. You'll just have to understand."

Jade laughed. "You're getting all flustered! That isn't the Dave I know. And don't worry, I totally understand. Like I said, I was being way rude. The shades are your business and I'm not going to try and change you."

"What do you mean." Dave was worried. Does that mean she had given up on him? Was there anything to give up on? Did she even like him in the first place? Maybe this is just what she did around friends. Fuck. He wanted someone to tell him the answer.

"Geez, Dave! Isn't it obvious? I like you the way you are!"

Well, fuck. He hadn't even considered that possibility.


	10. Lens 10

**Obscura ~ 16**

Dave stumbled into his room, slapping his palm against the wall but fully missing the light switch. He didn't notice. He was too busy tripping over his record collection and staggering towards his computer. He collapsed into the chair, head spinning.

[turntechGodhead has begun pestering tentacleTherapist]

TG: why is it sso dark

TG: why cant ii fuckkin see nything

TG: fcuk am i blind

TG: hello

TG: why is it balck

[tentacleTherapist has begun pestering turntechGodhead]

TT: Is it night there?

TG: fuck yes itis fukkin night here yes

TT: Perhaps if you took off your sunglasses, you would be able to see more clearly.

TG: fuck thats true. youre totally right

TG: yeah i can see better now

TG: thanks

TT: Are you quite alright, Strider?

TG: fuck yeash im fuckinn awesome motherfackr nad dont u forgt it

TT: I believe you sound even more cryptic than usual.

TT: You haven't been drinking, have you?

TG: i swear to drunk im not gog oshifer

TT: Ha ha. Allow me to laugh.

TG: ill alolw it.

TT: Strider, how much have you had?

TG: i don't knoww i lost cont

TT: Strider, you're underage. You're aware of that, right?

TG: fukc your mom. wait shes my mom too. fuck.

TT: Are you exhibiting any signs of alcohol poisoning? Have you vomited?

TG: what does exihibit meen

TT: Strider, listen carefully. I want you to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water and drink it. When you're done, fill it again—with _water_—and bring it back here. And for Gog's sake, don't drop it on your computer.

TG: your not my mom.

TT: Strider, do it this very instant or I will call upon the forces of Fth'ahgn and you will surely regret it.

TG: okay fine

TG: but only becuase i cant read wahtever the fcuk you just said

TT: Are you back yet?

TT: Are you still conscious?

TT: Strider, answer me.

TG: what yeah im still here

TG: gop

TG: i mean gog

TG: fck

TT: Did you drink the water?

TG: yeah

TG: it tasted like ass

TT: I think that was your mouth you were tasting. How many drinks did you have again?

TG: suht up i told you i don't fukcing know

TG: where did my shades go

TT: You took them off. You couldn't see.

TG: fuck man whyd you let me do that

TG: ool guys neevr take off the shades

TT: You thought you were blind.

TG: i dont rememember that

TT: Yes. You wouldn't.

TT: Perhaps you will tomorrow.

TG: well where did i put them

TT: I don't know, Strider. I don't live with you.

TG: you dont live with me fcuks sakes rose i konw that

TT: Honestly, Strider, I am not quite sure _what_ you know right now.

TG: fuck. bros gonna kill mee

TT: Why?

TG: he made me pormise i would nveer ever take them of

TG: ever

TG: not even in the fucking showwer

TT: Why would he do something like that?

TG: bceause i have these fucking red eeyes

TT: Well, I'm sure staying up all night and drinking won't do anything for bloodshot eyes, Strider. You aren't exactly helping yourself, acting like this.

TG: what

TG: no

TG: whats bloodshot

TG: my eyes are fucking red

TG: im like a fucking gay vampire

TG: shit dont write shittty fanfictoin about me okay

TT: You're telling me that your eyes—as in actual irises—are red?

TG: eyah what the fuck you think im fuckin saying

TT: Well.

TT: This actually explains a lot.

TG: nos hit does it

TT: Yes. It would explain your hesitation with the glasses and how you put up all sorts of strange fronts.

TT: It would explain why you're so set on becoming this image of a "cool kid" you've created for yourself.

TT: Hell, it might even explain your apparent disconnect with reality.

TG: what are alll those words

TG: i don't get it

TG: waht re you saying

TT: I'm saying I'm not very surprised.

TT: I should have expected it, really.

TT: You even type in red text.

TT: Is that a self-hating jab at your own vulnerability?

TT: The red text?

TT: Is that why you wear so much red?

TG: wel if yure done pyskoanalizing me freud

TT: I am very much not done.

TG: fanastic. im going to fuckinn slep now okay

TT: Sleep on your side. Have you learned the recovery position?

TG: is that some srot of kinky sex thig

TT: No. Never mind. Go to bed, Strider. I'll talk to you again soon.

TG: fuckin a.

[turntechGodhead has ceased pestering tentacleTherapist]

TT: Get a good rest, Strider. I think we've made some serious breakthrough today.

[tentacleTherapist has ceased pestering tentacleTherapist]

[turntechGodhead has begun pestering tentacleTherapist]

TG: oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

TG: that was all a joke okay

TG: it was funnier in my head at the time

TG: because i was drunk

TG: really fucking stupidly drunk

TG: hello

TG: fuck


	11. Lens 11

**Obscura ~ Age 5**

It was always humid when Bro started packing. Dave never knew, why but he remembered that, even when he was much older. It was always hot when they left. Unbearably hot. Sticky hot. Dave was all about the heat, of course, but it was the dry he could handle. Humidity made his hands stick during Bro's DJ lessons, and that was bullshit. Dave wanted to be just as good as Bro one day.

Maybe better.

But right now he was sitting on the couch. The leather stuck to him. Every time he moved, it pulled at his skin. So he just slouched in front of the fan.

"Hey, bro. Want a drink?" Bro called from the kitchen.

"Yeah."

Bro tossed a cold can of Faygo across the room and Dave caught it instinctively. "Careful, it'll fizz."

Dave was made sure to hold it over the rug as he snapped the lid open. The can hissed menacingly but didn't foam out. _Lucky shot_, Dave thought.

Bro walked over and collapsed beside his little brother on the couch.

"Fuck, man. It's too hot. Go sit somewhere else," Dave complained.

"And miss the disgusted look on your face? No way. It's priceless." Bro ruffled the boy's hair and Dave grunted. Only Bro could pull a stunt like that and get away with it.

"Hey, Bro…"

"What?" Bro smirked.

"Shut up. Never mind."

"Haha, no, tell me, man. Who do we have but each other?"

"Lame."

"'Fess up, kid. What's bothering you?"

Dave sat silently for a while, letting the fan blow on his face. He was too cool to speak into it to change his voice, but he did sometimes consider it—ironically, of course.

"Tell me, bro," Bro said.

"I said never mind. Fuck."

Bro reached over and pinched Dave's cheek firmly between his forefinger and thumb. "Come on, bitch. Tell me."

"Ow. Fuck. Let go, fuckass, that hurts."

"Is the little baby going to cry?'

"Jesus, let go."

"Are you going to tell me what cockroach crawled up your diaper or are you going to keep whining and moaning and not telling me the problem?'

"Fuck, let go, I'll fucking tell you."

"Good brat." Bro released him and leaned back on the couch, staring at the speckled ceiling. Minutes passed. "Fucking tell me."

"I'm getting to it, Jesus. Let me think."

"Fuck, and I thought you were smart. How long does it take to spit out whatever bullshit you're formulating?" Bro rapped Dave sharply on the head with his knuckles.

"Ouch, fuck, stop that."

"Spit it out, dick."

"Fine. Fuck's sake." Dave pulled himself up on the couch arm and turned to his brother. "But first, I call a gentlemen's glasses pact."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, cool kid." Bro pulled his shades off and rested them on the brim of his cap. "What do you want?"

Dave reached up and took off his own, hanging them from the collar of his shirt. He paused, insecure. Bro could see his full face now and it was uncomfortable. Then again, he could also see Bro's face. Bro was looking down at him with a weird expression, like he was trying to guess what Dave was going to say.

Or like he already knew.

"Why…why am I different."

Bro snorted. "What?"

"Don't laugh, fuckass. It's a serious question. Why do I have these fucking eyes. You don't even have them and you're my goddamn fucking brother."

"Fucking miracles," Bro replied.

"Don't give me that you dipshit."

"Contacts."

"What."

"Fucking contacts, dumbass. But that's not what you're asking, is it?"

"No, what the hell. Don't skip over that. You're wearing contacts."

"I never said they were coloured, did I?" Bro barked a laugh.

"Fuck, man, what colour are your eyes, then."

"Sorry, bro. That's a ninja secret you will never find out."

"Get me some, then."

"Nope. You're too young."

"No I'm fucking not."

"Sorry, dickwad. You may not act like a five year old brat—well, all the time—and you may not sound like one—mostly—but you sure as hell are one. I'm not letting you fuck around with your eyes like that. We don't have the money to fix you if you royally screw yourself over."

"You fuckass."

"Yeah, man." Bro ruffled Dave's hair again. This time, Dave slapped his hand away.

"Fuck off."

"Aw, don't throw a tantrum."

"I am not throwing a goddamn—fuck it. Fuck you."

Bro chuckled. "Anyway, that wasn't really your question, was it?"

"What. What the hell are you saying."

"You weren't really asking about me, were you? You want to know why _you specifically_ have those candy-apple eyes, don't you?"

"Was it that obvious."

"Shut up, dumbass. To tell you the truth, I haven't a fucking clue."

"Seriously. Are you that stupid."

"Hey, man, it's not like you're any better."

"Shut up."

Bro rested his head on his fist, leaning against the couch and watching Dave quietly for a while.

"Stop that. It's creepy."

"What? I'm just looking at my little bro."

"I don't like it. I'm putting the glasses back on, fuckass."

"Hey, man, you're the one that called the gentlemen's glasses pact. Don't blame me if you don't like the results."

"Fuck off."

"How does it feel, seeing the untinted world for a change?"

"It's too fucking bright."

"Yeah, man. This is how the rest of the world lives."

"The uncool world."

"Exactly. Now, do you see why we wear these?"

"Let's see. I wear them to hide my fucking devil eyes and you wear them to…I don't know, make fun of me? Because they're ironic?"

"Nah, man. You've got it all wrong."

"Oh really. Then please school me, teacher."

"We wear these shades, dumbass, not only because they look cool, but because they are magic tools for cutting through bullshit."

"What the fuck."

Bro tapped the lens of the glasses at Dave's chest. "We are the ninja wizards that are granted pure, unfiltered visions of reality. We are not like the unshaded heathens who walk around in the bright sun, missing half of everything, everytime."

"What the hell are you saying."

"It means we are probably the only assholes on this planet that can really see clearly, dipshit."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Cool."


	12. Lens 12

**Obscura ~ Age 10**

Children line up on opposite ends of the gym.

The teacher blows the whistle.

The kids charge.

Dave, on the other hand, hangs back with the wimpier kids. He hates dodgeball. It's not the athleticism that is his problem. Hell, he's a goddamn ninja. Dodgeballs look like they're floating by in slow motion at this point for Dave. He's not really sure what makes him hate it so much.

Maybe it was the whole brutality of it all.

Not that Dave was a pussy or anything. He just didn't see the point in it. He'd rather beat a kid with ill rhymes than with rubber projectiles. It just lacked admirable skill.

And so Dave stands near the back of the gym with the kids who suck at sports. Maybe he was doing them a favour. Maybe they'd look cool if they stood near him.

Just don't touch the shades, man. Never touch the shades.

_Schooooo_

Dave sidestepped an incoming comet. Fuck, man. That kid wasn't even stopping at _maim_, he was fucking going in for the kill. Who the hell threw that?

Oh, of course. It was Eldis. That kid was a fucking monster. It was like he had grown up on steady diet of steroids and growth hormones.

"Fuck's sake," Dave muttered, dodging another incoming missile. If only he had a goddamn sword. He would cleave those balls like a god of cool. Kids would cheer.

_Schoooowooooo_

Jegus, that kid could throw fast. It wasn't flashstepping fast, but it was pretty fucking fast. If he didn't pay attention, he'd probably end up with more than a bloody nose.

But Eldis seemed to have chosen Dave as a target. He supposed it made sense. Eldis wanted a challenge. Hell, he probably wanted to beat the cool kid of the class. He was sort of a weird guy to hang around. He was just way too fucking strong. Also, sweat. Just everywhere. It was a miracle that kid didn't just dry up and evaporate.

Dave decided he'd let Eldis have his fun. Hell, as long as that musclehead was gunning for him, he didn't have to worry about other kids being knocked out by his monster strength. So Dave just wove in and out and around the whizzing rubber bullets, watching as Eldis furiously snatched up balls from the ground. Dave was too cool to be really amused by it, but it was almost entertaining to watch him try so hard.

_WHACK-KRACKK._

Dave stumbled a bit, thrown by the force of the dodgeball slamming into his face and the shock of actually getting hit. Where the hell did that come from? Fuck. It was obvious. It's not like Dave and Eldis had been the only ones left—there were still plenty of other kids playing. Dave had let his guard down and now he was paying with it in blood.

And glasses.

Shit, his shades, what happened?

The teacher was shouting something but Dave didn't care. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor, clutching his hands to the broken glasses. How could a face be so numb but hurt so much? He was pretty sure the texture of the rubber was now permanently imprinted on his skin.

"Fuck," Dave said. The teacher was saying something about the nurse's office. Dave tried to argue.

"Just get Bro," he said over and over. "Just get Bro."

He was pulled to the nurse's office. He refused any treatment, slapping away any and all unwanted, reaching hands. "Just get Bro. _Just get Bro_, for fuck's sake, just fucking call him."

The nurse didn't approve of his language, but attributed it to the pain. After half an hour of hand swatting battles, she finally gave in and called Bro. He arrived twenty minutes later.

"Took you fucking long enough," Dave said.

"Sorry, man. There were some complications. Are you signed out? Fuck yeah, there's a good guy. Come on, I'll take you home." Bro put his hands on Dave's shoulders and steered him out of the school. He drove him home and helped him up the stairs to their apartment. Finally, he sat Dave down on a chair in the kitchen and went to get some medical supplies.

"Alright, take your glasses off," Bro said.

"Fuck no."

"For fuck's sake, Dave. Gentlemen's glasses pact. There. Now fucking take them off." Bro couldn't help but try to suppress the hint of the smile he felt tingling his lips. He had trained Dave pretty damn well, he thought as he pulled up a chair.

Dave pulled off the broken remains of his glasses and Bro took off his own in turn.

"There. Now, let me take a look at you." Bro pressed a cold compress to his brother's face. "How the hell did this even happen? I thought you were cooler than this, man."

"How about you shut the fuck up," Dave replied. "There's this one monster kid, we were duking it out. Well, I mean, he was trying to defeat me, but I am way too awesome to be pounded into the fucking pavement by his lameass aim. Anyway, some dumbass kid didn't realize it was a battle between men and threw a sucker ball at me."

"Sounds like you were just distracted," Bro said.

"Shut up. Just fucking shut up. You weren't there, okay." But Dave knew his brother was right and it made him sick.

Bro chuckled. "Chill, man. It's okay. It happens to everyone."

"Not to us. We're fucking ninjas."

"No, I'm a fucking ninja. You're still in training."

"Fuck that."

Bro gently prodded at the skin around Dave's left eye. "Yeah, you're definitely going to bruise pretty badly."

"Fuck man. Why do they always aim for the face."

"You're just too fucking hot, that's why. They're trying to level the playing field."

"Shut up, douche."

"Does it hurt?"

"What do you fucking think."

"Don't be a smartass. How bad is it?"

"I don't know. It hurts. What do you want me to say."

Bro sighed and held the compress to the bruise again. "It looks like you're a little cut up, but it'll probably be fine once the swelling goes down."

"Fuck. I hate this."

"No one like getting hit in the face, dumbass."

Dave pursed his lips. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah." Bro sighed empathetically. "Yeah, I do."

And then he pulled Dave to his chest in a rare display of brotherly affection.


	13. Lens 13

**Obscura ~ Age 14**

Dave tossed and turned in bed, shoving his face between the pillows and trying to breath slowly—deeply—until he relaxed enough to drift off.

But the trouble was that he never drifted off. He was never relaxed. Night was an inferno to him, making his chest tight and his breathing shallow. Everything felt hot, so he would kick off his blankets until he would suddenly feel icy and pull them back on. It was a horrible cycle of hot-cold-hot-cold and he was sick of it.

Except he couldn't change it.

Dave sat up and punched a pillow. He pulled off his shirt and grasped at his own white arms. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He was so tired. But he couldn't sleep. Every night was a fucking battle.

"Having troubles, little bro?"

"Fuck. How long have you been there. Get the fuck out of my room. Stop roleplaying some shitty-ass vampire and just fucking leave." Dave was not in the mood for ninja bullshit. He was tired and hot and his eyes hurt from lack of sleep. His shades had made deep indents on his face from jamming his head into pillows, but he didn't care. He was just so fucking anxious about…

About what?

Bro sat on the bed beside him. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"Fuck. Do I look fucking okay to you."

Bro pressed his hand against Dave's forehead. "You're pretty hot. Are you sick?"

"I'm not sick. My head just hurts. Fuck. Everything hurts."

"Take your glasses off."

"Fuck. You tell me to never take them off, and now you're—"

"For fuck's sake, it's just us in the room. I had to say that back when you were little because you weren't old enough to fucking understand."

"No, man, you were right. Cool guys never take off their—"

But Bro snatched the shades straight off of Dave's face before he could finish the sentence. He slipped them into his pocket. "There. Problem solved."

Except the problem wasn't solved, not by a long shot. The light the shades had blocked was hurting Dave's eyes, more than before, and he was shaking. He grit his teeth and clutched at his arms and was suddenly aware he couldn't breathe, even if he tried.

"Close your eyes," Bro said. "Close your eyes and take a deep breath, okay?"

But Dave couldn't hear him, he couldn't follow the instructions. He was stressed because—well, he didn't really know—but it was turning his stomach into knots and now all he heard was a funny buzzing sound in the back of his skull.

Bro stood up. "I'll be right back. Just try to breathe, okay? Fuck."

He returned moments later with a damp washcloth and a copy of _Asshole's Guide to Curing Whatever the Fuck is Wrong With You._

"Just lie back and put this over your face. It'll help," Bro instructed. "I think it's a tension headache or something, but it won't go away for a while. I'll get you some aspirin. Just try to breathe, okay?"

"Fuck," said Dave. He did his best to evenly force air in and out of his lungs. It took more effort than he realized. He pulled the damp cloth down over his eyes and tried to lie very still. If he didn't move, maybe he'd cool down. Just keep breathing. In and out. In and out.

"Here, take these." Bro pushed a couple of pills into his hand. Dave sat up and the cloth fell wetly into his lap. He took the aspirin and curled up again.

"Fuck," he said again.

Bro sat beside him on the bed, stretching his legs out.

"Fucking get out. It's too hot," Dave breathed.

But Bro didn't leave. He just sat beside Dave and put an arm around him and leaned back. "Just let me take care of you, douchebag. I don't want you to die on me, I think that would go on some file somewhere and girls wouldn't date me because I _killed my fucking little brother._ So suck it up."

"Don't touch me," Dave tried to protest. Instead, he just leaned against Bro's chest. The steady rhythm of his breathing made Dave jealous. Here he was gasping for air, uncomfortable and in pain and Bro was just sitting there like a normal fucking asshole.

"Is anything bothering you?"

There were so many things Dave wanted to say all at once, but nothing but an unintelligible garbling choke came out. "I can't sleep anymore."

"I've noticed."

"You have."

"It's kind of obvious. I come home and you're lying around the house, passed out in the weirdest places—and usually nose deep in puppet ass, by the way."

"Fuck man."

"I know it's hard. It's hard for me, too."

Dave wanted to argue. He wanted to yell at his brother because Bro didn't understand at all, he had died too soon, he wasn't forced into all the shitty things Dave had been forced into. He didn't see himself dying over and over until he could talk about piles of corpse selves like it was nothing.

At the same time, every fibre of Dave's being refused to talk about it at all. He refused to think about it. He didn't care that Bro seemed to want to. He had shoved all the darkness back and was thoroughly over it.

Except now he couldn't sleep.

Bro sighed sleepily. "Look, man, I'm not going to make you talk about it. I might be an asshole, but I do care about you."

"Feeling are for the weak."

"Fuck, did I teach you that? Jegus. No. Dammit, Dave, I fucked up. I know I did. Just…just try to trust me now."

"Is that why you're making me watch shitty shows with you."

"I've been a shitty brother. I'm trying to fix that, okay? Gogdammit." Bro shook his head. "No, you're sick, you're exhausted. Fuck. I'm not going to throw this all at you now, it's my fault anyway. Just close your eyes and try to sleep. Just try. I promise I'm here if you wake up and you still feel sick or whatever."

"Whatever."

So Dave closed his eyes and listened to Bro breathing and desperately pleaded in his mind to whatever asshole Trollgod might be laughing at him right now to grant him a dreamless fucking sleep.

He was tired of the nightmares.


	14. Lens 14

**Obscura ~ Age 16**

Dave was frozen in his spot. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He didn't know what to do. This had only happened once before, and Bro had made them move right after. But this was Rose and he knew Rose and she was his paradox sister. He couldn't just leave Rose, not just because they were friends but because _it was Rose and she would find him_.

"Dave?" she asked, deciding to use his first name as a sort of plea. Her usually even-toned voice seemed to almost tremble. She knew she had done something horribly, horribly wrong and she didn't know how she could fix it.

Dave was shaking. He wasn't sure if she noticed. He noticed, though, the way his arms, his chest, his legs wouldn't stop fucking moving for one goddamn second.

"Dave?" Rose repeated.

"Fuck," Dave whispered. He suddenly shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Fuck. Fuck. Rose, why would you…fuck."

He was taking it better than Rose had expected. "Dave…?"

"Fuck," said Dave again.

Rose was torn between returning the glasses or seeing where this went. She decided to keep them for now. "Look, Dave, I…I knew."

"I know."

"I knew, I swear, you told me on Pesterchum."

"I know, I remember that, I'm an idiot and I was drunk and I said things I shouldn't have and it made you curious, fuck, yes, I get it."

Rose touched his shoulder. He flinched away immediately. "I'm sorry, Dave."

"Just shut up. Let me think. Fuck. And stop doing that, stop calling me Dave. You're making this even weirder than it already fucking is."

"Strider," Rose said. This seemed to help him, though she couldn't fathom how. "It's okay, Strider. It's alright. I'm not going to tell anyone. I won't tell. I promise."

"Fuck, Rose, I know that. I'm not an idiot. I just…fuck."

"You're worried my opinion of you will change?"

"Well, _now_ I fucking am, thanks."

"Strider…?" she said hesitantly.

"What. What do you fucking want now."

"Can you look at me?"

"No. I'm not going to fucking look at you. You're not supposed to see me without my glasses, this is stupid. This is fucking stupid."

That's when Rose decided to do the worst thing she could do for the second time that day. She reached over and grasped his face in her hands, forcing him to look her straight in the eye.

This startled the unnerved Dave even more. He tried to pull away but she had grabbed him rather tightly. He just stared, horrified, at her blank face. What was she doing? What was she thinking? The shaking was worse, now, a full-body trembling that he knew even Rose would be able to feel.

"I'm so sorry, Strider," she said at last. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to grow up like this. I'm sorry it hurts you so much."

Dave had a thousand retorts but not a single one would come out. He wasn't sure he even really remembered how to speak at this point. Hell, he wasn't really sure he remembered how to _function_.

"I'm sorry," she kept repeating, as though it was a sick chant and she was trying to brainwash him. But she wasn't trying to brainwash him, she was genuinely apologizing because he had devil eyes and he had grown up always looking at the world through tinted glass and she thought that it was just _horrible_. And that's what made him feel nauseous.

She was pitying him.

Finally, he regained the state of mind to be able to slap her hands away. "Fucking stop that. Don't look at me like that. It's disgusting."

"I don't know how you think I'm looking at you, Strider, but it's because I feel for you. It hurts me to think my somewhat-brother grew up having to—"

"I know. I fucking know, Rose, you think I don't know. I get it. I've seen that fucking look before, I've seen it from Egbert, I don't need to see it from you, too. Fuck. I don't care. I seriously don't fucking care. I've had these for as long as I can remember and I know they're never going to change, so I might as well do what I've always done because it's not going to make anything different. No matter what I do, it's like this, so I might as well cover it up."

"Strider… You don't have to do this. Not around us, you don't. We're your friends. We want to be able to see your face. Dammit, Strider, we want you to be able to see us, too, clearly and not through those stupid sunglasses."

Dave looked down at her. "No."

With numbed amusement, Rose realized she could see his every emotion now. He hadn't been trained to conceal his thoughts like normal people, growing up with those glasses covering half his face for his entire life. He didn't know how to fake expressions. Everything was laid bare and she knew it terrified him.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was kind of glad she had snatched those stupid shades away. It let her see a different side of him, a completely different side, one that few people had seen before. The Strider behind the shades. He wasn't some desperate guy trying to play himself up as the cool kid, this was a real human with real feelings.

She started to feel guilty. Dave was now looking pointedly away from her—anywhere but her, actually. She touched his arm again and he recoiled.

"Stop that. Stop fucking touching me. I don't like being touched."

"I know."

"Haven't you done enough. Just give me that, at least."

"Strider—"

"I don't want to hear it, Rose. I'm sick of this. I _feel_ sick. I…"

But Dave really did feel sick. His stomach was turning and warning lights were flashing in his head. Fuck.

He ran to the bathroom and threw up.


	15. Lens 15

**Obscura ~ 18**

It had happened faster than Dave had ever anticipated. He just crouched on the ground, hands over his head, praying that Kaden hadn't noticed. His shades lay on the floor in front of him, just out of reach.

_Go away_, Dave thought. _Just go the fuck away._

"What the fuck is wrong with you, douchebag?" Kaden asked, irritated. "Get the fuck out of the bathroom, I need to shower. Or do you want to live beside a basket of foul waste? Is that what you want?"

"Just pass me my shades and I'll leave."

"Fucking get them yourself. They're right in front of you. I have better things to do than stand around all day while you bitch and moan about your weirdass candy apple eyes."

"Fuck. You saw that. Okay. Don't tell anyone. Please. I'm saying please. I never fucking say please, okay. That is just for you. You should feel just so fucking honoured because I never say that and now I'm saying it to you. So _don't fucking tell anyone_."

"Like I care about your piddly-ass problems," Kaden snapped. "If you look like you've taken one too many experimental drugs, that's your issue. I don't give a fuck."

"Okay. Good. Thanks, man. You're…you're a better guy than I thought, I guess. Even though you're a grouchy-ass douchebag with anger management problems."

"Shut the fuck up, tile-licker, and get out of my bathroom. A friend is visiting and I don't want her to leave in disgust just because my asshole roommate is having a tantrum in the fucking bathroom like an eight year old brat." Kaden paused, looking down, then kicked Dave's glasses over to him.

"Fuck. Thanks, I guess." Dave quickly put his shades back on and stood up.

"Yes. I am a wonderful fucking person and you should be on your hands and knees grovelling to me because I am the king of human niceties. Get the fuck out now."

Dave smirked a smile. "Thanks, _roomie_."

"Shut the fuck up and get the fuck out."

"Whatever you say." No sooner had Dave walked out of their adjoining bathroom did the door slam shut behind him, locking with a raspy metal _click_. Kaden was turning out to be a much better guy than Dave had initially thought. He was all bark and no bite. Hell, he was evening starting to sound like he'd be fun to _purposely_ piss off. Dave foresaw an infinite number of subtle, passive-aggressive battles in the future.

But maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he would actually be nice and, what, get the guy some candy apples or whatever the hell he had been talking about? Maybe he would do that.

After all, Kaden _had_ promised—somewhat—to keep Dave's secret, well, a _secret_.


	16. Lens 16

**Obscura ~ Age 14**

"Dave…" John said.

And then nothing. Neither boy spoke for what felt like an eternity. Dave had covered his eyes with his hand, but he was completely sure that John had seen. There was no way he could have _not_ seen. The surprised look on John's face, the look in his fucking eyes, those fucking blue eyes, those fucking _normal_ eyes…it was burned into his brain now.

"Dave," John repeated. "Well, I…I don't know what to say right now." He gave a little laugh.

Dave didn't know what to say, either. He didn't know what to do. He was dizzy and tired and his head hurt. He felt like puking.

"Here, we don't want it to swell any more, right?" John said calmly, holding the ice pack up and trying to nicely brush Dave's hands away from his face.

"Fuck, stop that. Don't touch me," Dave said, swatting him away. He didn't want John to get a second look. He wanted John to think he had been seeing things, or that maybe the light had reflected of Dave's shirt in a funny way, or—

"So, your eyes are red, then?"

Fuck.

"That's kind of cool, Dave."

He knew John was trying to make him feel better. He knew John had no idea what he was saying, he was just trying to say _something_—anything—to make the awkward tension go away. But it wasn't going to go away. John had seen and now Dave was terrified. He felt the trembling in his limbs and he couldn't stop it. He wanted to cry, everything hurt so much. He didn't want John to see him cry, though, John had seen enough. Only Bro had ever seen Dave cry, and Bro was three hours away.

"Dave, um, it's okay. You don't have to be scared. It's just me, man." John gave a gentle laugh. "You don't have to freak out like this. It's me, bro. I mean, we've seen trolls man. This is nothing."

Dave didn't want to lose John. John was his best friend. They were bros. John was his little brother. He knew John was talking, but the words blurred together in his head and he couldn't understand a thing. His head throbbed.

"Dave, it's just me. It's okay," John kept repeating this over and over, emphatically trying to get Dave to say something, do something, _anything_. He wanted Dave to know he was okay with it. That he really didn't care.

But that was Dave's problem.

"It's not okay," Dave said quietly.

"What?"

"I said it's not okay."

"I don't—"

"It's not fucking okay!" Dave shouted. Dave never shouted. But he didn't feel like Dave right now. Dave worse shades, Dave was cool. Right now he was shadeless, he was and in pain, he was shaking and, most of all, he was being very uncool. "Fuck! How can you not react at all?"

"I-I'm sorry, Dave, it's just, I mean… After the game, nothing really surprises me." John gave a halfhearted shrug. "Maybe I was sort of expecting it?"

"Expecting it. You were expecting it."

"Well, I mean, remember when I joked that our text colour matched our eyes? Like the trolls' text matched their blood? I dunno, maybe something sort of just clicked then. It's not really that bad of a guess, considering all the weird coincidences we've been through. Maybe it's just the Earth equivalent of a troll thing and we didn't notice."

But this was too much for Dave. He was used to horrible, over-the-top reactions. He was used to being called a devil by everyone who had found out: classmates, teachers, neighbours. He had worn these fucking shades for thirteen years because of his goddamn eyes and now his best friend was just brushing the revelation off like he had known all along.

And it stung.


	17. Lens 17

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

"Hey Dave, is that you?"

Dave looked up from the shitty comics he was doodling in the margins of his notebook. He had been trying to think up a new SBaHJ update, but it wasn't looking bad enough yet. He figured it would be suitably awful if he added some lens flares, but it was difficult to decide beforehand.

"What?"

"Oh, it is you. I didn't know you were in this class, cool kid. Hehehe."

Jegus. What was this chick's name again? "Teresa?"

"I am so glad you remembered me and totally did not forget at all. Hehehe."

"I didn't forget."

"Sure you didn't. You are such a great liar, I totally can't smell your deceit from all the way up here."

Dave swivelled in his seat. She was sitting beside him, tapping her fingers against the tape recorder on her desk. Her cane was tucked neatly between two seats. She grinned.

"Hey there."

"Yo," Dave said.

"How are you enjoying law?"

"It's okay, I guess. I haven't decided if I'm going to take it as a specialist or a major or something yet."

"Choose soon, cool kid. It will mean more suffering if you don't." She chattered her strange laugh. "But if it helps, I think you should definitely go into law."

"Really."

"Yes. It is my favourite subject, after all. You would make a great lawyer. I will prosecute and you will defend. We could make a great team."

"That sounds like one awfully shitty cop show you've got cooked up in your head for us."

"Thank you. I try. Also we would be detectives."

"Of course."

"We would solve all sorts of murders."

"How could we not."

"Hehehe. You are very funny, cool kid."

"I haven't said anything funny."

"I know. But your tone is always very funny."

"The hell does that mean."

But before Teresa could answer, the professor cleared his throat loudly, indicating that the five minute break was over. Class resumed.

x.x.x

"Dave, is that you? Wait up, cool kid."

"What do you want."

"That's rude. Aren't you going to walk a poor blind girl to her next class? Hehehe."

"I dunno, you seem pretty self sufficient."

"Okay. I will walk to class myself. Maybe I will think about how I can't see colours anymore and how depressing that is. Maybe I'll—"

"For fuck's sake, fine, I'll take you to class. Where is it?" Dave looped his arm around hers.

"South building room 304. Thank you, Dave. Hehehe."

"Jegus, you're manipulative."

"I know. It is a good trait, I think."

"Well, I guess you'll make a good lawyer at any rate."

"Yes, I am good at that. What about you? I am sure a cool kid like you has many options."

"What do you mean."

"What do you want to do, Dave? Are you going to be a hero?"

Dave stopped. "What the fuck. What do you mean by that."

"Are you going to be a hero?"

"What the fuck does that mean."

"I think you would make a good hero. Hehehe."

"I'm not a fucking video game character."

"No, that's right. I am just being silly," Teresa said. "This is my classroom, by the way."

"What the fuck. If you knew, why did you drag me here."

"Don't be mean, Dave. A true gentleman always takes care of his lady friends!"

"I'm not a fucking gentleman."

"No, you aren't. But you might still be a hero. Hehehe." She tapped her angled red glasses once, grinning at him, then disappeared into the steady stream of students entering the room.

"The fuck was that supposed to mean," Dave muttered.

But the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach told him that he knew very well what she meant.


	18. Lens 18

**Obscura ~ Age 16**

"It's okay, Strider. It's okay. Just breathe." Rose gently rubbed his back between the shoulder blades. "Calm down."

"Fuck. Go away, Rose. Or do you get off on watching me puke my guts out. Fuck."

"Well, I am doing my best to comfort you." Rose frowned.

"Yeah, you're real fucking great at that. You're just full of great ideas today."

"Do you think you're finished?"

"What, finished throwing up. You really don't have to fucking be in here. I'm pretty sure I can handle it myself. I'm a big boy now." But Dave was relatively sure he had emptied the contents of his stomach and so stood up. Rose held on to his arm as he went to the sink. "Fuck, Rose. Get off me."

"You look very pale. I'm worried that you'll faint and hit your head."

"Fuck. I'm not that much of a pussy." Ignoring Rose, he brushed his teeth and washed the sweat off his face.

"You should lie down."

"I'm fucking fine, get away from me."

"But you _aren't_ fine, Strider, that much is clear. Lie down and I'll make you some tea."

"I am not drinking any fucking boiled grasswater."

"It'll settle your stomach. Have you been eating properly?"

"Fuck. You aren't my mom."

"_Our_ mom. And you're right-I'm not. I'm your sister." The corners of Rose's mouth twitched, threatening a smile.

"Just leave me alone, Rose. Please. I'm fucking begging you. Do you want me to get on my goddamn knees."

"No, you've done that enough today." Another twitch of a smile.

"Fuck. You're just such a comfort."

"Lie on the couch, Strider."

Dave gave up. This day obviously was not his for the taking. He collapsed on the couch, covering his eyes with his arm.

"Where do you keep the kettle?"

"No clue."

"Very well. I'll search for it."

Dave smiled slightly at the clatter of swords and Rose's bitten-off swearword. _That's what you get for being such a meddlesome broad,_ he thought.

But Rose eventually did find everything she needed and brought Dave a cup of tea. "Drink it while it's warm."

"I never agreed to drink that shit."

Rose sat in the squashy armchair beside the couch, sipping from her own mug. She watched Dave's chest rise and fall as he took long, shuddering breaths.

"I really am sorry, Strider."

"That's great. That fucking changes everything."

"It's not as bad as you think."

"Oh, yeah. You can totally fucking relate."

Rose narrowed her eyes. "Because purple eyes are just _so normal_ right?"

Dave paused. "Yeah. Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't think about that."

"No, you obviously didn't."

"It's just…I mean, purple eyes are cool, right. People buy contacts to have purple eyes because they think it's a good colour."

"People buy red contacts, too."

"Different people, Rose. Those people are very, very different. They are like the lame vampire creeps that fill the internet with shitty emo poems. They are Satanic wannabe Goths. There is a difference."

"I suppose I can accept that theory. There is obviously a difference between purple and red beyond the addition of blue. I'm just saying that you aren't as alone as you think."

"Shit, Rose. At least you didn't have people calling you the fucking devil since you were three."

"And that's why you never take the glasses off."

"No shit."

"Was it your idea to wear them?"

"No. Bro came up with it, back when I was a fucking baby. It was his rule and we both stuck by it."

Rose sipped thoughtfully. "I've been wondering for a while—what colour are your brother's eyes?"

"I don't know. That fucker may or may not wear contacts, he's never given me a straight answer."

"Why don't you just wear contacts, then?"

"Fuck that."

"Are your eyes too sensitive?"

Dave grimaced. "Can you maybe stop asking all these fucking questions. It's no something I want to talk about. Jegus, I thought you said you understood. Or were you just lying."

"Strider, I'm trying to learn more about you. Is it that difficult a concept to grasp? That I actually want to know more about my dumpass paradox brother?"

"Shit, Rose."

"I want to be able to help you."

"You know what would help. If you didn't keep asking me all these fucking questions."

"It's okay to lean on other people sometimes, Strider. It won't kill you. People aren't meant to live through life alone."

"Fuck, are you hitting on me. You're my sister. That's awful. Fuck, Rose."

"I am not hitting on you! You're insufferable!" Rose snapped. "And I was talking about _friends_, you stupid prick."

"Yeah…I know. Trust me, Rose, I know."


	19. Lens 19

**Obscura ~ Age 14**

"You still alive, lil bro?"

Dave slowly blinked awake. His body felt heavy. "What."

"Oh, good. I thought you were dead."

"Why are you in my bed."

"Don't you remember all the fun we had last night?"

"Fuck. What. What did—what. What are you saying, asshole."

Bro chuckled. "I'm just screwing with you, dumbass. But seriously, do you not remember? You were freaking out."

"Where did my clothes go."

"Your shirt? I dunno, I think you tossed it somewhere."

"What the fuck."

"Yeah, you were having this massive tantrum because I cancelled your shitty gaming subscription."

"I what. What the hell. That doesn't sound like me. You're lying, aren't you. Fucking prick."

"Would I lie to you?"

"Yes. Yes you fucking would. We've been over this."

Bro patted Dave's shoulder. "Okay, the truth, then. You were pretty sick last night so I stayed here to make sure you weren't going to up and die on me. I don't really need that on my record, thanks."

"Fuck. Love you too, asshole."

"How are you feeling now?"

"I'm fucking fantastic. How do you think I'm feeling. I feel like shit."

"I'll go call the school." Bro stood up and Dave slumped on his side. It was surprisingly cold without Bro beside him. "I'll bring you some water, too. Try to go back to sleep."

Bro turned to leave. Without thinking, Dave reached over and took hold of his brother's sleeve.

"Sup?" said Bro.

Dave quickly released him. "Fuck. Never mind."

"Tell me."

"No, I don't know what I was doing. Go tell the teachers they don't get to see my beautiful fucking face today or whatever you were going to do."

"You think you can get away with it that easily? You're a shitty liar, you know. Without your shades, it's pretty damn easy to get a read on your emotions."

"I don't fucking have emotions. I am one chill motherfucker."

"Uh-huh. Right. I'll be right back."

So Dave withdrew and watched as Bro left the room, his stomach tightening into a knot. Why was he worrying? Bro was fine. He was there.

He would come back this time.


	20. Lens 20

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Dave stared down at his own face. This was a Beta Dave, a Doomed Dave, a Dave born of a fucked up timeline. Beta Dave slumbered on.

[gallowCalibrator has begun trolling turntechGodhead]

GC: H3S DOOM3D 4NYW4Y, D4V3!

GC: JUST DO 1T! 4T L34ST YOU C4N M4K3 1T F4ST

But it wasn't that easy, was it? Looking down at his own face and contemplating self-murder. Beta Dave was defenceless. His hand curled slightly and his fingers twitched in his sleep. He breathed slowly, in and out, in and out, in and out.

And it was more than that. It was so much more. Beta Dave _was_ Dave. He had all of Dave's thoughts and memories and feelings. His experiences up until the time split mirrored Alpha Dave's _exactly_. No, it wasn't even that. It wasn't a mirror image. It wasn't even a copy. The fact of the matter was that this Dave _was_ him. They were the same. It was Dave lying there on the bed and Dave standing above him, sword in hand.

GC: D4V3, DON'T YOU W4NT TO B3 4 H3RO?

GC: 4LL YOU H4V3 TO DO 1S K1LL H1M

GC: 1 4M SUR3 TH4T H3 WOULD PR3F3R TH4T OV3R SOM3 OTH3R HUM1L14T1NG D34TH, R1GHT?

GC: H3 1S YOU, 4FT3R 4LL

_Would_ Dave prefer death at his own hands? Part of him agreed with Terezi. He'd rather be the one to "release" the Doomed Dave, not some enemy. Not Jack. At least Alpha Dave would make it quick. Painless, even, if it were possible.

Except that wasn't how he felt at all. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. No, this wasn't right. He wouldn't prefer that at all. It wasn't because he cared who killed him—he knew it was coming, the instigator made no difference—but because he knew himself. He knew that the murdering Dave would have been going through some pretty rough shit trying to decide. And that would bother him.

Cool as he was, he wasn't cold-blooded.

TG: i dont think i can do this, man

TG: this shit is surreal

TG: look at him hes just sleeping there

TG: he doesnt fucking expect anything

TG: let alone me coming to chop his fucking head off

GC: W3LL 1F YOUR3 SUR3 YOU C4NT, 1 WONT M4KE YOU

GC: 1 4M NOT GO1NG TO TR1CK YOU L1K3 SOM3 UND3RH4ND3D SP1D3RTROLL!

GC: BUT 4R3 YOU SUR3?

GC: DON'T YOU W4NT TO B3 TH3 H3RO FOR ONC3?

GC: 1NST34D OF L3TT1NG SOM3ON3 3LS3 S4V3 YOU 4LL TH3 T1M3?

Dave almost reconsidered. He raised the sword.

Beta Dave turned over in his sleep. His shades slipped a little. Dave froze.

GC: WH4T'S TH3 M4TT3R, COOL K1D?

GC: JUST ON3 SW1NG 1S 4LL 1T T4K3S TO B3 4 H3RO!

GC: 1SN'T TH4T WH4T YOU W4NT?

But Dave had made his decision.

TG: no

[turntechGodhead has ceased pestering gallowsCalibrator]


	21. Lens 21

**Obscura ~ Age 14**

"Why are you dragging me up here again." Dave watched Bro's back as they climbed the long staircase to the roof.

"I told you, didn't I? We're going to look at the stars."

"Why the hell are we going to do that. Oh, Gog. Wait. Don't answer that. It's because we watched that shitty anime, isn't it. You said we should look at the stars and now you're actually making me do it."

"It's good for the soul, douchebag."

Before Dave could protest further, Bro pushed him out the door and onto the roof of their apartment complex.

"This is stupid," Dave said.  
>"You think everything is stupid."<p>

"Everything _you do_, yes."

Bro displayed a hint of a smile. Since they had returned form the game, Dave was rather more vocal about his displeasure with some of the things Bro did. This actually amused Bro, as at least eighty percent of the things he did were some attempt at seeing how far he could push the kid before he snapped. Frankly, he had been surprised that the puppets had lasted so damn _long_. Even Bro had begun to find them creepy (though not creepy enough to discontinue the smuppet site, which was still making a pretty penny).

"Are we fucking high enough yet," Dave asked.

"Not yet," said Bro. "There's one more to go." He motioned to the small building the rooftop door was set in. "There's a ladder 'round the back of it."

Once atop the little building, the two plunked down and lay back against the gravel coating the cement.

"Gentlemen's glasses pact," Bro said. Dave grunted but obligingly pulled off his shades. He had to admit, the sky was pretty damn impressive without the sunglasses blocking his view.

"Is this your first time?"

"First time what."

"Seeing the stars."

"Fuck. You asked me that before. Obviously I've seen the fucking stars before, you dumb shit."

Bro snorted. "Okay, smartass. Let me rephrase that. Is this your first time _looking_ at the stars?"

"What the hell, that means the same thing."

"Does it?"

"If you're going to go all cryptic on me, I'm leaving right now." Dave sat up, but Bro shot out a hand and grabbed him by the back of the shirt, pulling him back down so forcefully that he hit his head. "Ow. Fuck. You asshole, I'm probably bleeding."

"Rub some dirt in it," Bro replied.

"That is like the worst fucking advice you could give someone. I hope you never spawn."

Bro grinned. "Well, thanks to your nerdy little friend, I already have."

"Fuck. That's right. Wow, I do not want to think of you as my dad ever. You would make the worst fucking dad in the world. People would make up new awards for sucking just for you."

"Yeah, well, you aren't exactly a dream son, either."

Dave went a little quiet and Bro knew he had gone a little too far.

"_But_ you are a pretty awesome little bro," he added. "In a strictly ironic sense, of course."

"Of course," Dave agreed stiffly. "And I guess you're a pretty okay older bro. Sometimes. Mostly you're just a dick."

"Hey, man. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"Yeah, well, my apple grew fucking wings and hightailed it the hell out of your weirdass garden before it ever even hit the ground."

"Just look at the goddamn stars, fucknuts."

So the two stared up at the speckled heavens, neither speaking for several minutes. Dave realized that Bro was probably right—he had never really _looked_ at the stars before. It was kind of thrilling being up there on the roof, just the two of them. He wondered why they had only started doing cool shit like this _after_ the game, not before.

"Dave, I really am sorry."

"Jegus, you apologize and apologize and I have no fucking idea why."

"I've done some bad things raising you."

"What. You did fucking fine. You got the coolest kid you could ever hope for."

Bro chuckled. "Yeah, man, no argument there. No other kid could surpass your irony. But that's not what I mean."

"Then what _do_ you mean."

"It's kind of hard to explain to you since it's been so deeply ingrained into your stupid little brain."

"What. Are you trying to apologize to me or fucking insult me, you prick."

"A bit of both." Bro laughed. "Dave, I guess, I'm sorry I trained you to be so deadpan. I was wrong, bro, hiding your feelings just brings more problems than it solves."

"What."

"It's okay to show emotions, man. It's how you connect with other people."

"What."

"Look, I wasn't that old when I got you. I had no idea what to fucking do and so I pretended to be brave. I wanted you to think I was some cool guy so that you could trust me and not worry about how we were living on fucking instant noodles every meal, every day for months."

"Shit, I remember that. That was awful. I fucking hate those things now."

"Yeah, me too. But, you know, I was fucking terrified. I thought I was going to fuck you up really badly somehow." Bro grimaced. "I guess I sort of did, anyway."

"What the hell are you saying. There's nothing wrong with me."

Bro reached over and slapped Dave teasingly on the cheek. "I think I taught you some bad things."

"Dude, you _only_ fucking taught me bad things. I am one bad motherfucker."

"Dave, you aren't listening to me."

"No, man. You aren't listening to _me_." Dave was staring straight at his brother now, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "There's nothing wrong with me, so you have nothing to apologize for. Got it, dumpass?"

Bro rubbed his temples with his forefinger and thumb. "Fuck. Yeah, fine, I got it."

"Good."


	22. Lens 22

**Obscura ~ Age 14**

"Dave, if you want to talk, we can." John watched Dave nervously behind his bulky glasses. "I promise, I'll listen, man."

"Fuck," said Dave.

"I guess you're having some kind of panic attack right now or something, and I guess I can kind of understand, but it's just me, man. We've been through enough that something stupid like this won't ruin anything." He laughed but it sounded strained in Dave's ears. "Let's just talk about it. You'll feel better."

"Fuck," Dave repeated. "Fuck." How was he supposed to talk to John? Even if he wanted to talk to John—to talk to anyone, really—the words would catch in his throat and he would just have to bite them back down. Feelings were fucking fake.

"You can tell me anything. I want you to! You're like my brother, Dave. Don't you keep calling me that? Your little bro? I want you to be able to talk to me like you talk to Bro."

But Dave didn't really talk to Bro, not like John wanted. Dave's conversations with Bro consisted mostly of insults and crude statements. They would argue and Bro would win. Bro would ruffle his hair and say something rudely nice to him and they would go back to whatever the hell they were doing beforehand. Because Bro fucking _understood_. He had lived with Dave long enough to be able to differentiate the minute differences in Dave's expressionless face, long enough to be able to notice how stiff Dave would get when he was stressed, long enough to know what words were safe and what would flip Dave over the fucking edge.

John didn't.

John wanted to talk, actually talk with words about fucking feelings. Dave couldn't do that. He just…couldn't. No words would come.

"It's…it's okay if you don't want to, man. I can wait. Even if you never want to tell me what's up, I just want you to know that I'm here, okay man?" John chuckled. "Man, I bet you think I'm so lame right now. Even I think I'm lame. It's like we're in some stupid angsty teen flick."

Dave's throat hurt. He felt the words sticking there and it was getting hard to breathe again. He wanted to force them out, anything out, just to say _something_. He had all but forgotten how to talk.

"I'm just…I'm here, okay? I don't even have to say anything, you can just talk _at_ me and I'll listen."

_ Fuck, Egbert, stop that,_ Dave thought. _It hurts_.

It wasn't even that he didn't _trust_ John. Fuck, if he couldn't trust John now, he couldn't trust anyone. John was his bro. His little brother. He was a good guy and Dave knew it. He was just too fucking good and Dave couldn't deal with that. He couldn't deal with someone just being so open and forgiving with him. Only Bro could do that and Bro didn't talk about feelings. He talked about shitty puppets and video games and their mutual hatred of Game Bro magazine. But he was too cool to talk to about the heavy stuff. It was intimidating.

So Dave would always end up just going to Bro and maybe grabbing his sleeve like he was fucking five years old again and staring at him until Bro looked down and ruffled his hair. Then he'd smile. And that was it. That was how he'd comfort Dave, because that's what Dave needed.

But John's support was different. John wasn't the kind of guy to just nod or punch you in the shoulder. He was the kind of guy who would talk and talk and talk until it was just all fucking out there for everyone to see.

That terrified Dave to the core.

"Seriously, man. You haven't said anything and I don't know if you're even listening, but—"

"Fuck, Egbert, of course I'm listening."

"Shit! Really? That surprised me. That's—that's good, man. I'm glad. I really mean, it, i—"

"Egbert, for fuck's sake, you've said that like eighty times now. I fucking get it."

"Sorry, Dave, you just weren't saying anything so I wasn't sure if you—"

"I was listening. Fuck. I was listening." Dave rested his head in his hand. His face felt hot and puffy from the swelling. "I…Can I have that cold pack."

"Yeah, of course." John passed it over and Dave pressed it to his eye. Dave found he could breathe a bit easier now. The anxiety had passed. He was just tired now.

"Sorry," Dave muttered.

"Don't worry about it, Dave! That's what friends are for!" John said.

"That was pretty fucking cheesy, man."

"Yeah, I know." John grinned. Dave gave a little smile. The idiot didn't even know what he was apologizing for.

Maybe he preferred it like that after all.


	23. Lens 23

**Obscura ~ Age 6**

_It's all for him._

Bro rested his head on the cold plastic of the kitchen table. For a while, only the ticking of the clock and the sound of his own breathing broke the silence.

"Bro." Dave tugged at his sleeve.

"Yeah, man?"

"Are you okay."

"Yeah, man."

"Are you tired."

"Yeah."

"Why don't you go to bed, dumbass."

Bro snorted. "Too far."

"Long day."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"Go to fucking bed." Dave pulled harder on the sleeve and Bro succumbed, standing up. "Take that stupid shit off, too."

"Yeah, yeah." Bro yanked at the strings of his ill fitting apron, pulled it off and tossed it on the table.

"There are noodles for dinner."

"I know." Bro allowed Dave to guide him back to his room, then collapsed on the bed, covering his face with his arm. Dave sat beside him, kicking his legs. "Eat without me, okay, man? I'm not hungry."

"No, fuck you."

"Come on, you know how to work the fucking kettle. It's just one goddamn button. Fill the fucker up and click it. It's not hard."

"I know how to make noodles, dumbass. I make them when you aren't home, you know."

"Then what's the problem? I'm tired, man."

"That's why you need to eat, asshole. If you die, I'm fucked."

"I'll eat, just later."

"Then I'll wait."

Dave's stomach gave an audible growl.

"Go make your noodles," Bro said.

"I'm not fucking hungry."

"Don't lie to me, just go eat. I don't need a sick kid on my hands, too."

"Fuck you, fine." Dave slid off the bed and went back to the kitchen. Bro listened to him rustle around, clanking pots and swords as he shifted various piles to look for the kettle. He heard Dave running the water and the loud click as he turned it on. He knew that Dave was looking for noodle cups now, down in the cupboards beside the sink by the expected clatter of swords falling to the floor. Dave swore a few times.

_This is why you're doing this_, Bro thought. _He's the reason you take these shitty jobs and the long hours. It's all for him._

Dave returned a few minutes later, holding two Styrofoam cups. "Here."

"What? I told you I wasn't hungry." Bro wearily pushed himself up, accepting the offer.

"Do I look like I give two shits about what you said. Eat your fucking noodles." Dave sat on the side of the bed, slurping up the salty mess.

Bro forced down the food. It made him feel nauseous to eat when he was so tired, but he figured that if Dave actually went to the effort of making it for him, he shouldn't complain. Dave understood what the long hours meant. This was his way of saying thank you.

Bro just wished it didn't come in shitty noodle form. Ugh.

"Thanks, man. You're a lifesaver," Bro choked, swallowing the last dregs of overly flavoured soup water.

"Yeah, I'm a fucking god," Dave replied, putting his cup down on the bedside table and wiping his face with his sleeve. Bro followed suit, then paused to look at his little brother. "What the fuck are you staring at me like that for."

Bro smirked. "Just thinking."

"About what, you douche."

"Stuff." And then Bro hooked his arm around Dave's neck and pulled him onto the bed, ruffling his hair. "About how you're such a damn brat. You know, the usual."

"Ow, fuck, stop that." Dave struggled, but relented. "Asshole."

Bro just smiled. It was all for him, and it was worth it.


	24. Lens 24

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

"I found one!"

"That's the wrong one."

"How can you tell?"

"That one's got weirdass speckles all over it."

"…No it doesn't?"

"Of course it does. What the hell are you saying."

"Dave, your glasses are wet! That's swamp water, not speckles!"

"Shit. You're right." Dave dumped the frog in his hand back in the pond. "I guess that makes this harder."

"Just take them off and wipe them on your shirt or something, it's not hard!" Jade replied, diving for another frog. "Come here! No! Argh! This is so annoying!"

"I thought you liked frogs."

"Why would you think that? I mean, I do, but—ugh! Dave, it got away again!" Jade hiked up the hem of her evening gown and began stepping carefully through the muck. She didn't want to crush any tadpoles that might be swimming around her feet; they might be useful at some point in the timeline.

"I don't know, aren't you some sort of animal lover or some shit." Dave effortlessly snatched the leaping frog as it tried to pass him. He held it out for Jade. "Is this one right."

"Of course I love animals, Dave, they're adorable." Jade waded over to him, adjusting her glasses to look at the squirming amphibian in his hand. "Ooh, close. But I think this one isn't weird enough. We need a really weird one."

"Alright." Dave tossed the frog over his shoulder and continued looking.

"Seriously, Dave, how can you go so long without cleaning your shades? This is really starting to piss me off!" Jade removed her glasses for the umpteenth time that hour and grabbed a handful of dress, hurriedly polishing the spots from her glasses. She jammed them back on her face, looking rather manic. "Dammit!"

"Whoa. Calm down," Dave said. "Just chill out. We'll figure it out eventually."

Jade sighed, shaking her head. "Sorry. It's just really stressful, this job. I used to catch frogs for fun, but this is really…"

"Something else."

"Yeah."

"I know." Dave wiped his hands on his pants. "Damn. At least these weren't my action pajamas. There'd be fucking hell to pay if that sweet suit got wrecked."

Jade giggled. "You're silly."

"Nah, man. I'm _cool_."

"Of course, I was wrong. You are so totally cool, Dave!" But she was only barely being sarcastic and Dave could tell. Jade was too genuine.

"What did the frog need to have again."

"It has these weird glowy—ah! Is that it?" Jade sprinted down the marsh, raising her knees as high as she could to get across the water quickly. "Come back here!" After a few minutes of furious splashing, she grabbed the frog by one of its spindly legs and held it up. She frowned. "Wrong one."

"Maybe we should take a break," Dave suggested.

"But I have to get the frogs!"  
>"I'm not saying you don't. I'm just saying you'll miss more frogs if you freak out than if you stop and take a deep breath. I'll show you." Dave paused for a few minutes, scanning the murky water.<p>

_Splash!_

His hand shot into the water and he pulled out a floppy, struggling frog. "See? Like that."

"I can't do that, Dave! I'm not a ninja like you are."

"Not yet. I'll teach you. You'll be catching frogs in no time, like some sort of crazy fusion restaurant."

Jade sighed, wading back to the grassy bank. "You're right, Dave. I'm going crazy over these stupid frogs. And I _like_ frogs."

"I know," said Dave. He followed her and they sat side by side, watching the lily pads drift back and forth with the wind.

Dave squinted. Shit. Jade was right, his glasses were fucking filthy. He could barely see a damn thing.

"Hey," he said.

"What's up?" Jade replied. She sounded calmer now and he was thankful for it. He didn't want her running off and doing anything reckless and stupid. Only he as allowed to do that, as far as he was concerned.

"I'm going to clean my shades."

"Okay? Go ahead," Jade laughed.

"No, I mean, can you turn around for a minute."

"What? Why?"

"Just—just do it, okay. Please." He shifted uncomfortably.

Jade frowned briefly, then shrugged. "Okay! Whatever you want." So she turned around. "Do you want me to hum, too?"

"I am laughing so fucking hard right now."

"Jeez, Dave, you're so deadpan. Well, _can_ I hum? This song has been stuck in my head all morning and it's driving me as crazy as these frogs are!"

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead."

"Thanks." So Jade began to hum the tune from an old TangleBuddies episode.

Dave watched carefully for a moment before deciding she was probably going to wait for him to say something. "No peeking, okay."

"No peeking. Your feminine modesty is safe with me!"

"Oh, shut up." Dave quickly rubbed the spots off his glasses with his shirt. He kept glancing up at her to make sure she wasn't sneaking a glance in here or there. Good. She didn't seem to have any intention of doing so. Dave felt safer.

He pulled his sunglasses back on. Ah, blessed darkness. Skaia was pretty fucking bright without the shades. "Alright, I'm done."

"Took you long enough." Jade grinned.

Dave shrugged. "Cool guys do things in slow motion. I am the fucking king of ramping. When movie makers want to emphasize something I do, they speed it the fuck _up_."

Jade snorted. "Don't waste all your budget on that, Dave. Your fans won't like it." She stood up. "Well, I guess we should get back to hunting frogs."

"Yeah." Dave got up and stretched his back. "Damn. This kills the muscles."

"I know, right? I can't wait until we find the last one."

"Hey, Jade."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For not looking."

Jade grinned. "Hey, man. Cool guys never take off their shades, right? I understand."

And then Dave smiled a smile that he could have sworn was only like sixty percent ironic.


	25. Lens 25

**Obscura ~ Age 16**

Shitty techno music flooded the halls and shook the floor.

_Un-tss, un-tss, un-tss_.

Dave leaned on the wall, as cool people are want to do. He didn't dance. Cool guys didn't dance. They just leaned on things and bobbed their heads in time with the music.

_Un-tss, un-tss, un-tss._

He wasn't really sure why he had even come to this fucking party. He had been invited, of course. He was invited to a lot of parties. The only difference was that this time, he had actually _accepted_.

_Un-tss, un-tss, un-tss._

Why? It's not like he knew anyone. Oh well. It is the fate of the cool guy to be dragged to weirdass sketchy houses filled with questionable, semi-sober idiots. It was just something he'd have to put up with once and a while.

_Un-tss, un-tss, un-tss._

"Hey, man."

Dave looked up. "Yo."

"How are you enjoying this motherfucking miracle of a party? This shit is motherfucking fantastic all up in my stuff."

Dave frowned a little, squinting through the hazy light at his conversational partner. It must be Gabe, he thought. He didn't know anyone else who talked like that—like a fucking stoner.

"Do you want some motherfucking faygo? This shit is amazing, man, it's made of miracles and puppies or something. Well, maybe not puppies. That'd be fucking weird. But it tastes just so fucking good, man, _you don't even know_."

"Nah, man, I'm good."

"Come on, man, enjoy yourself. Life's too short to waste on appearances."

"What appearances."

Gabe laughed. He had painted his face for who-the-hell-knows-what-reason, but it was starting to smudge from all the heat and the sweat of the party. "Don't ask me, cool guy."

"This is no appearance. I _am_ cool. I am as chill as a fucking polar bear, man, just not giving a shit and being one with the fucking snow."

"Ha ha, man, yeah. I feel you, brother. Do you want some motherfucking faygo? This shit is amazing, man, it's—"

"Made of miracles and puppies or some other weirdass shit, yeah, you said."

"Shit, did I? Man, these lights are fucking with my motherfucking brain. But seriously, man, try the fucking faygo it is _miracles_, just pure, unadulterated fucking _miracles_."

"Yeah, fine, whatever." Dave succumbed to the idiot's temptation and accepted the offer.

Six plastic cups of faygo later, the two of them proceeded to have the worst rap-off the world had ever seen.

"Drinking faygo and shit 'cause it's up in my head," Gabe shouted at no one in particular in a rather out of key tune.

"I'm turning back time because I'll soon be dead," Dave completed.

"Bitches be jelly of my fine-ass rhymes."

"Betas by the dozen costing nothing but dimes."

And so continued the shitty rap.

By the time they had made their way through another three cups, they were collapsed on a couch and their ill beats were becoming less and less colloquial and more and more literal. Dave thought he was going to throw up.

"What the fuck was in that shit," Dave asked.

"Dunno, man, maybe someone spiked that shit. No wonder there are just so many fucking miracles tonight. More than usual, man, like a whole motherfucking boatload of miracles just fucking everywhere _all the time._"

"Fuck, that explains a lot."

"Does it explain our godly motherfucking rhymes, man? Because we were on fucking fire."

"We are just the coolest assholes in the history of cool-dude asshole guys," Dave said. He wasn't really sure if that made sense, but Gabe was nodding along placidly so he sort of just assumed it did.

"Fucking miracles," said Gabe. They stared out at the jostling people. Everything seemed to be bathed in a weird red glow, like someone hooked up a bunch of cheap floodlights to the ceiling. Fuck, that's probably what had happened.

"Shit man, I feel sick. This is fucking disgusting, like a…like…thing that is gross, ugh, I can't even think of a fucking metaphor or simile or…or just shit, man, what the hell."

"Nah, man, just let it happen. You aren't feeling it, my brother. You gotta be one with the juice, you gotta stop fighting it."

"What the hell are you…fuck, it's…." Dave rubbed his pounding head. He felt far too hot and far too dizzy.

"Ha ha, man, you are so out of it. You need some more motherfucking miracle juice, that's what you need."

"Fuck, no, I don't want any more of that piss. I can barely fucking see."

"Take off your shades, man, you'll never see the stars if you don't."

"The hell are you talking about, I…" But Dave couldn't really form the sentence in his mind. His words were sort of slurring together and the damn tempo of the music was fucking with his heartbeat. His head drooped. Everything was spinning.

_Un-tss, un-tss, un-tss._

_Un-tss, un-tss, un-tss._

The next thing Dave knew, he was flat on his back in an alleyway.

Everything was dark.

"Wurr the shit arm I."


	26. Lens 26

**Obscura ~ Age 16**

It was dark when Dave awoke. He felt clammy. He reached up and pulled the damp washcloth from his face. The fuck?

Dave sat up and looked around the apartment. Rose was sitting in the armchair next to the couch, legs tucked up to her chest. He couldn't see her face clearly, but he thought she was sleeping.

When did he fall asleep? He certainly didn't remember it. After they had argued, there had been a long silence, of course… and then… Was that when he drifted off? During the awkward pause?

Dave stood up and stretched. What time was it? He looked down at Rose. What kind of face was she making? Did she have the nightmares, too?

"I can't sleep with you staring at me like that, Strider."

"Shit. You're awake."

"How observant." Rose slid her feet back to the floor and rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn. "Are you feeling well? Has the panic abated?"

Dave made an odd face. "Fuck, man, it was—"

"My fault, yes. I'm not arguing with you about that. I will still maintain, however, that what I did was necessary." She smirked. "Well. Perhaps I was acting more out of my own interest than yours." She pushed herself off the chair and walked over to stand beside him. She was still gazing at his face with muted curiosity.

"No shit." Dave looked away.

"Nevertheless, I know now." She chuckled. "You're actually really expressive, aren't you?"

"Dammit, Rose."

"I know, I know. You don't want to talk about it." Rose sighed. "And here I thought I'd be able to put my vast psychological knowledge to some sort of use."

"Fuck. I'm not your patient and you're not Freud."

"Have you never played 'Let's Pretend'?"

"For fuck's sake, stop making fun of me. Seriously, man, how many ways are you going to try and ruin my life before you go home."

"Contrary to what you believe, Strider, I'm not trying to ruin your life. I'm trying to help you." She frowned slightly. "Doesn't it feel better to be with someone who knows? You don't have to hide behind those shades any more, at least not when you're with me."

But Dave _liked_ hiding behind his shades. He was naked without them. "No."

"You're just being stubborn."

"I'm really fucking not."

"I can't help you if you don't stop fighting me."

"I don't want your fucking help, Rose, because there's _nothing wrong_."

"You're in denial."

"Look." Dave looked down at her, eyes narrowed. "This is exactly why I never wanted you to find out."

She met his gaze. "But you knew I would, didn't you? Besides," she smiled thinly, "_you're_ the one who told me."

"Fuck. I was drunk. How many times do I have to fucking say that."

"However many times it will take you to believe it, I expect."

"I don't have to believe it, Rose. I know it's true. I had a massive hangover the next morning—headache, nausea, the works."

"Alright. I will accept that you were drunk when you messaged me. Your text seems to point in that direction, anyway."

"Good."

"_However_, I don't think you were as much in a haze as you seem to believe."

"Fuck, Rose. I thought I was blind because I was wearing sunglasses in the dark. How fucking brilliant do you think I could have been then. And then I _lost_ them. Do you know where they were. Where I found them the next day. They were on my head, Rose. They were on my fucking head."

"I think you experienced a moment of clarity."

"Clarity. You think that was clarity. That was drunken, semi-conscious stupor, that's what it was. You're just trying to spin it so that you can go all Jungian on my shit and I'm not going to have it. Fuck, Rose, stop trying to play therapist with me."

"I'm not playing therapist, Dave," Rose replied, sounding a little irritated.

"Oh yeah. Then what are you doing."

"I'm trying to be a good sister, dumpass. _And_ friend, not that you seem to think that's very important." But Rose could see the strained look in his eyes and so let up.

"Oh."


	27. Lens 27

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Dave had to admit, the puppets were really starting to freak him out, and not in an ironic sense.

In fact, they fucking terrified him.

He'd get up in the middle of the night to go take a piss and _bam!_ There'd be a fucking puppet hanging in the shower. Watching him. _Always._

At first, he had deluded himself into thinking that they were cool. They made money, after all. As stupid as the smuppet shit Bro made was, it had a bizarrely, disgustingly large fan base. As long as they made money, Dave figured it'd be okay. Business is business, after all. It wasn't like porn was an altogether wholly legitimate genre of film, anyway.

Then again, most technology _is_ driven by porn. Hell, if shitty puppet porn was what fuelled the science for 3D tactile gaming or whatever the hell was next, Dave didn't really mind.

Dave opened the fridge and a multicoloured stream of puppets tumbled out.

Fuck. He had been expecting swords.

Where was Bro, anyway? Cal kept cropping up whenever Dave entered a new room, so he couldn't be far. Should he call out?

Nah. Cool guys never call out. They just wait.

They _chill._

So Dave waded through the mountain of dong-nosed puppets, trying to find something edible amongst the plush rumps. Eventually, he found a three week old bag of skittles.

What the hell were skittles doing in the fridge? And why the fuck were they made by Betty Crocker? Dave allowed himself a smirk. That'd be something to tell John.

Nonetheless, beggars can't be choosers and Dave tore the package open. He'd have to go grocery shopping soon, he supposed. It was his turn and he had been putting it off. But man cannot live on frozen candy alone, so it was probably time to stop procrastinating. He would definitely go to the supermarket.

…in a few hours. He could last that long.

Dave then went into the living room and collapsed on the couch. Shit. Cal was sitting beside him in an instant. What the fuck.

He shook his head. No. Bro was just fucking with him. He was using his flashstepping for evil again. If he was a little more ambitious, Bro would make one hell of a fucking supervillain.

No, that'd never happen. Bro always played strictly as the "lawful" category. There was no chaos for him. There was enough of that at home, what with the fucking puppets (_Fucking. Puppets._) and the swords and the partially hidden video cameras.

Maybe Bro was taking this a little too far.

Okay. A _lot_ too far.

Dave wondered if he should bring it up. But how? It's not like they ever really talked. Bro was busy. Dave was busy. The most contact they had had recently was during their weekly hashrap battles and… No, that was about it. Hashrap battles had become their main form of communication. That, and poorly written notes, a la style of Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff.

At least that meant Bro was reading his comic, Dave supposed. He wondered if Bro appreciated the deep levels of irony Dave had crammed into it with every click of the fill bucket.

Dave's phone buzzed. John was talking to him.

John was always talking to him. And Jade. And Rose. He was one hell of a cool guy, they just couldn't keep their texts off him. Dave decided that he had better see what John wanted. He adjusted his shades and read the message.

"What the hell is SBurb?"


	28. Lens 28

**Obscura ~ 15**

"You and me. Right now. On the roof."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Look, man, I know I'm fucking sexy, but I'm your brother. And your son. Also I'm not gay, so stop fucking trying to convince me that I am."

Bro pulled a disgusted face. "No. Just no. Why would you even. No. Fuck, man, why would I _ever_ hit on you? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I think we both know that the question should be, 'what the hell is wrong with _you_.'"

"That's what I said, dumpass."

"No. I meant—fuck. Never mind."

Bro chuckled. "How do you like that corner? Does it feel all warm and fuzzy, working yourself deeper in like that?"

"Dude. Just stop. Everything you say sounds like porn to me now."

"It sounds like someone has been watching one too many smuppet vids. 'Everything is rude if you have the right attitude'," Bro sang the line in a rather off-tune way.

"Who the fuck said that. It definitely wasn't you. Your beats aren't ill enough for that, bro."

"Samuel Clemens," Bro lied. "And good, at least we're getting back on topic."

"What topic."

"What I was going to talk to you about, idiot."

"What were you going to talk to me about."

"Actually, it was what I was going to propose."

"What were you going to—fuck, man, I said I'm just not that into you."

"Would you stop hitting on me for one fucking minute and listen, Dave?" Bro ruffled Dave's hair roughly with the side of his hand.

"Ow. Fuck. Stop that. Fine. What the fuck do you want."

"Maybe I won't tell you now, jerk-off."

"Okay. Cool." Dave started to walk away.

"You deadpan smartass, get the fuck back here." Bro grabbed the back of Dave's shirt collar and pulled him back. Dave choked.  
>"Are you trying to fucking kill me."<p>

"No. Yes. Not yet. I'm thinking it's time for a motherfucking hashrap battle."

"What. No. Why. That's stupid. We haven't done that forever."

"Is little Davie afraid I'm going to whoop his ass? I mean, it's pretty obvious, since you've never won before, but—"

"Go to the fucking roof, asshole. I'll show _you_ who has the sickest gogdamn rhymes. You'd better get ready to have your bitch ass handed to you."

"That's what I wanted to hear." Bro grinned. "Meet me on the roof in five."

"Yeah, yeah. I fucking know the rules."

x.x.x.x

Dave and Bro faced each other on the roof, properly armed to the sylladex with various degrees of super badass weapons.

"Who starts," Dave asked.

"Since you had to ask, _me_, bitch."

"Sounds like someone is afraid his godly little bro is going to beat the shit out of him."

"Oh really?"

"Fucking sounds like it, doesn't it."

"Let's start."

_In all the rooms in all the world, you know I've got this covered_

_Because the bitches are shoutin crazy, "You know, I ain't even bovered"_

_So I sit right down and I lay right back, I let the lights fade out to black_

_'Cause I'm fucking schooling all you fools since you ain't got no tact_

Dave did a brilliant youth roll across half the platform, narrowly missing being skewered by a stray katana. Fuck, that was close. He'd better shape up or he'd have more than rhymes to worry about.

"Fucking lame. Try this," Dave said, ducking.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, never ending, condescending beats issued from the clock_

_I ain't got time for your damn reasons, I'll leave you spinning 'round the block_

_Fire's burning everywhere, there ain't a drop to drink_

_Lava's flowing under foot, you'll lose so you don't dare blink_

But Bro, in all his ninja wisdom, evaded the barrage of shitty throwing stars, skilful as ever.

"What's wrong, man? Out of fucking practice?"

_Take up arms, man, we're rebelling so you better not be spelling_

_Out a plan and I'm your man, but I'm going to have you telling_

_All your secrets and your worries, gonna throw you to the Furies_

_And this ain't astrology, because we're goin' downtown and you better fucking hurry_

"That was stupid. What did that even mean." Dave somersaulted out of the way of a…a smuppet? What the shit? Was that an accident? No, Bro was probably just fucking with him.

"Then show me what you've got."

_I hear the drumming, I feel the beat, and when he comes I will repeat_

_This point in time is never standing, never still-there's no option for defeat_

_When you hear my record scratching you know your imps are going down_

_Because when I get my game on and I'm serious, I ain't no motherfucking clown_

Bro surveyed Dave behind his tinted shades, choosing to watch from the sidelines as Dave valiantly battled his afterimage. What the hell?

_I don't know what you think you're spouting but with those lips you're pouting_

_When I turn around you're shouting, unlike cool kids, so now I'm doubting_

_That you're really all that chill, and despite my best good will_

_I think you're faltering a little so I'll go in for the kill_

Dave felt the telltale tug of fabric and knew that one of Bro's shitty ninja stars had tore his shirt. Shit. Well, he had suffered worse from these hashrap battles before. It's not like—_another_ fucking smuppet? What the hell had Bro stacked his sylladex with? Was he that confident he could win?

_Looking down at that face, I know that I'm going to win this race_

_Not as god, but as man, and 'til the end I'll reject my place_

_Living life like a king, throw away that fucking ring_

_I see him sleeping on the ground, but I won't succumb and swing_

Bro's mouth twitched. He was starting to worry a little. This was completely different than the Dave he was used to. These rhymes were somehow…_off_.

_When you don't remove your shades, you're gonna look up at the sun_

_Know it's there, never run-ning, and though your deeds can't be undone_

_You'd better know, man, I don't know man, what to say to make it right_

_So I'll do my best to conquer, I won't give up without a fight_

Dave snorted. So Bro was trying to teach him life lessons or some shit? It was a little too late for that, thanks.

_Today, tomorrow, yesterday, it's all the same to me_

_Your pity'll do no good so just chill and let me be_

_This clock is ticking down the hours until I don't-know-what_

_But hell, I know it can't be good, so I won't give a fuck_

"Those don't rhyme," Bro said.

"Poetic fucking license, what do you want from me."

_Not this_, Bro thought.

_I see you flailing like you're failing, but I think you're really fucking ailing_

_I don't see why you don't just tell me what, but instead you're veiling_

_What you're thinking while you're sinking and I know that while you're linking_

_Rhymes together like a wordsmith, your entire aptitude is shrinking_

"Speak for your fucking self," Dave said. And he meant it. He was doing better in this battle than he ever had before. Sure, he may still be fighting a fucking illusion, but at least he knew it. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. He ducked another incoming smuppet. For fuck's sake, how many was Bro going to launch at him? He was just making fun of him at this point and it was starting to piss Dave off.

_I don't need to kill myself for godhood, because when I'm rapping it is all good_

_Who needs to save the world when we've got rhymes, people are dropping all the time_

_Oh wait, that's me, and I'm falling, looks like I've got no power left for stalling_

_Because when the Jack comes back and I'm going to take the brunt of his attac—_

"Fuck. Dave, stop this." Bro grabbed Dave from behind, slapping a hand across his mouth so he couldn't launch the last item from his sylladex.

"Mmphhmm," said Dave.

"Shit." Bro held Dave closer. "Shit." He knew Dave was freaking out—he didn't do well with extended touching, even if it was Bro—but he wasn't about to let go. "Shit." And then, "Ow!"

"Fuck, man, I couldn't breathe," Dave said.

"You don't have to fucking _bite_ me."

"It's not like you were listening anyway, I was trying to tell you that for a good three minutes, asshole."

Bro gazed sadly at the back of Dave's head for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"What. What the hell."

"I'm sorry, Dave. I'll…I'll listen."


	29. Lens 29

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

Colourful lights flashed overhead as the music thudded, shaking the building from its very foundation.

Dave was used to this. He stood near the stage, watching Bro mix some ill jams together. His flashstepping was impressive as always—after the game, it had gotten even better. Effortless, almost. This was what Dave aspired to be. Bro was making pure, unadulterated _music._

"This is amazing!"

Dave turned. "Teresa."

"This is…amazing!" she repeated, clearly at a loss for words. She was swaying a little, turning her head every which way, taking it all in.

"Whoa, man, are you okay. You look kind of out of it."

"Is the cool kid worried about me? Hehehe."

"No shit I am. There's all sorts of crap you could just walk into here."

"Then you'd better do your job and protect me, hero! Hehehe."

"Well, I don't have a fucking choice now, do I. What the hell is wrong with you, anyway. Are you stoned."

"Of course not! Just a little dizzy." Teresa frowned. "If I were to make a guess, I would say it is sensory overload!"

"You can't even see half of this stuff, can you. How does that work."

"Dave, I can't see _any _of this stuff. Hehehe." Teresa grinned pointedly again. "But just because I can't see it, it doesn't mean I don't know it's there!"

"What the hell. What, you can fucking smell the lights or something?"

"Don't be stupid. I can _feel_ them."

"Oh, okay. That totally makes sense."

"And they taste delicious."

"Now you're just fucking with me, aren't you."

"What do you think, cool kid? Hehehe." She turned her face to the stage. "Is that your brother?"

"What. How the hell can you tell."

"I don't have to be able to see to know!"

"That explains fucking nothing."

"I can sense a cool guy from a mile away, Dave. And because you are standing here, it obviously can't be you on stage."

"That still doesn't make sense."

"Does cool run in the family? Hehehe."

"Yeah, man. Striders are fucking wizards of cool. We have all the chill genes. _All of them._"

"This seems obvious!"

"What are you doing here, anyway. Where's Kaden."

"He told me that clubs are for 'douchey life-flubbing pricks', so I came by myself."

"Oh. Uh. I'm sorry, I guess."

"No, it is okay. He will just be very angry when I return. I don't think he expected me to go alone, hehehe."

"Uh. That sounds bad but you're smiling, so…"

"He is fun when he is angry. He is so silly."

"Yeah, I can't really argue with you there. Sometimes I do things just to piss him off. His reactions are pretty fucking priceless."

"That is what I do every day. It is a game we play." Teresa suddenly paused, leaning heavily on her cane. "Hm."

"What."

"Do you want to be a hero, cool kid?"

"What. What the hell."

"Because I think you are about to get your chance."

"What."

And then she fell.


	30. Lens 30

**Obscura ~ Age 16**

Dave stumbled down the alley, fell sideways and slammed his shoulder into the brick wall. Fuck. That was going to hurt later.

He clumsily rifled through his pockets for his wallet and phone. Was he mugged? Was he fucking mugged? Had someone gone and stolen his shi—oh, there they were. Okay. Cool.

Dave flipped the phone open and peered blearily down at the numbers sliding in and out of focus on the keypad.

"Fuck, man. Stay slill." He prodded one of the numbers. Speed dial. Bro would probably come get him.

…wherever he was.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Hello?"

Dave stared down at the phone. That wasn't Bro's voice. What the fuck? "Hoor yew."

"What?"

"Hoor the hell are yewww." Dave slurred.

"Dave, is that you?"

"How the fuck do you know my name. Hooryewww, man. Hooryewwww."

"Dave, what the hell are you saying? I can barely understand you. Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I don't even…I don't even fuckin… Hooryew."

A pause. "Are you drunk, man? Dave, that's not good! We're underage!"

"Hooryew."

"Dave, where are you? Is Bro coming to get you?" The voice on the other end yawned. "Damn, man. What the hell are you doing? It's way too late." Pause. "Isn't it a school night!"

"Dunt you talk to _me_ about night, you worthless piece of—why can't I see."

"It's night, Dave. People can't see very well at night."

"Fuck, I'm blind, I'm blind, I'm blind arm't I."

"No, you're—you're wearing shades at night, man, of course you can't see."

"_How did you knowww._ Are you watching me. Are you—shit, you're watching me aren't you. Wurr are you, asshole. I'll find you."

"Dave, I'm in my house, miles upon miles away from you. I am not watching you. I'm—just call Bro, okay? He'll pick you up, I'm sure."

"No shit."

"I'm going back to bed now, okay, man? But make sure you call me or go on Pesterchum in the morning or something so I know you're not dead."

"Hooryew."

"Night."

_Click._

Dave stared down at the phone. Who the fuck was that? Regardless, he pressed another button.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"Why the fuck are you calling so late, asshole? Where the fuck are you?"

Dave smiled a super-ironic smile. _That_ was definitely Bro. "Wurr arm I."

"What. Just. What the fuck?"

"Wurr arm I, man, wurr arm I."

"Hang on, let me get me English to Drunk-Dumbass dictionary. Okay, what were you saying, you stupid little prickass brat?"

"WurrarmI."

"Where are you. How the fuck would I know? What does it look like where you are?"

"Black."

"That's because it's night, dipshit."

"WurrmrmI."

"How many fucking drinks did you have? Fuck, man, this is why I shouldn't let you out of your fucking cage. Where was the party?"

"Rrrrmmgg."

"Are you puking? Fuck, you stupid shit. If you die of alcohol poisoning, I will revive you _just so I can kill you again_."

"RrmmmgggmmmrrrI."

_Clatter_.

"Dave? Dave? Fuck, Dave, this isn't funny. Dave? Fuck. Fuck. Dave? Shit."

Dial tone.


	31. Lens 31

AN: I should apologize for Lens 29, I totally meant to write "Teresa" for everything but I guess I wasn't paying enough attention and started writing what I was thinking ("Terezi") instead, haha. Who sleeps anymore, eh? Anyway, thanks to the people who pointed it out so I could change it! And to all those reading Obscura, really. You guys are all so very, very cool (and not just in the ironic sense).

**Obscura ~ Age 7**

_Chk-chk-chh—shhka-chaa!_

Dave nodded along with the music blaring from his headphones, swinging his legs under the park bench. Bro was going to be late picking him up today, but that was cool. Bro was a busy guy, after all.

It took Dave a full ten minutes to realize that he was being watched. He narrowed his eyes and adjusted his shades. The hell?

"Hey," he said.

The other boy hid his face in his hands and slid backwards into the bushes.

"The hell." Dave stood up, pulled off his headphones and walked over. "Yo. What the hell are you doing."

"S-sorry," the boy said nervously. "I-I just thought, I dunno, s-since you were alone, that, um, maybe we could…play?"

"What the hell."

"I-I'm sorry, I-I'm sure you're busy and, uh, that's cool, too."

Dave recognized this kid. "You're Taegan, right."

"Y-yeah." Taegan smiled a little bit. "I-I'm trying to be, uh, braver."

Dave wasn't really sure how to reply. "Good for you. Must be hard with that crazy bitch harassing you all the time."

"Y-yeah, w-well, she's just doing it for my own, uh, good."

"You sure about that. I think she just likes picking on you."

"Y-yes, that is true, too."

"You gotta stand up for yourself, man." Dave eyed the wheelchair Taegan was sitting in. "Uh. Sorry. I could have phrased that better."

Taegan laughed. "N-no, that was pretty funny. You're so cool, Dave. I, uh, I…I wish I could be more like you."

"What. No, man. Don't wish that, that's a shitty wish." Dave shook his head.

"O-of course I will! E-everyone likes you, Dave. Um, well, maybe not the, uh, teachers…."

Dave snorted. "Yeah, man. At least you're liked by the teachers. That's pretty fucking useful, isn't it. You should see the ways they try to fucking fail me."

Taegan rolled forwards a little, then back, forwards, then back, thinking. "I think, um, it's better to fight with them than to be pitied by them, though…"

Dave frowned slightly. "Yeah. I guess so."

But then Taegan grinned. "But, um, you're not like that! At least, I think you're not, since we haven't really, uh, talked until now."

"I'm not."

"Exactly! I knew you'd understand. You're so cool."

"No, man, that was a question."

"Oh! S-sorry, I—"

"No, don't apologize. It's my fucking fault." Dave shook his head.

"It's okay! I s-sort of get it. You're, uh, very deadpan, right? I think you are just, um, more used to people who get that."

"You don't get it."

"Yeah. I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to-wait, shit, uh, was that a question? I mean, yeah, I-I'm not really used to people, uh, phrasing stuff like that. But it's still cool!" Taegan smiled sadly. "I really wish that I could, uh, be like you. It's so easy for you to, uh, make friends."

Dave grimaced. "No, man, those aren't friends. Fuck. I'm shittier than you at that stuff. I—shit, why am I telling you? You'd better not fucking tell anyone."

"O-of course I won't, Dave! I am just very interested in our friendship. That is, um, prolonging it. So of course I won't!"

Dave glanced around. They were still alone in the park. "Okay, fine. Look, man, I'm absolute shit when it comes to friends. Why the fuck do you think I've been sitting here alone for an hour. People looking up to you, those aren't friends. You need a good fucking balance, okay. Besides, you aren't a fucking douchebag, I'm sure you're fine."

"But I am your friend, Dave. Uh, that is, if you want me to be."

"Yeah, sure. Cool." Dave felt the telltale buzz in his pocket. "Shit. Bro's calling me. I gotta go, man."

"S-see you tomorrow?" Taegan asked hopefully.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. No, I mean. Yeah. Cool. Okay. Bye."

"Bye, Dave!"


	32. Lens 32

**Obscura ~ Age 14**

Silence.

"Dave…" John began.

"Shut up. Shit, no, I mean—"

"It's okay, Dave." John laughed shakily. "I get it, man. You don't have to say anything. Not if you don't want to. I get it now."

Dave squished the melted bag of ice in his hand. The throbbing of his head had finally gone away—the aspirin had taken care of that. He was calmer now, too. Much calmer. His chest didn't feel tight, his words weren't sticking in his throat. He could breathe again.

"Dave?"

"Yeah."

"I'm…I'm really sorry this happened."

"Dammit, Egbert, I said it wasn't your fault."

"I know, but it really is. You can't keep saying it's not. But it's okay, man, I'll make it up to you. I don't know how yet, but I will. I'll…I'll figure something out."

"It's fine, man. I think we've hit the quota for shitty freak outs today. Don't worry about it." Dave finally dropped the ice pack into his lap and leaned back, gazing up at the ceiling. He knew John was staring at him, but he suddenly didn't care. He _couldn't_ care anymore. He was too tired.

"So…I guess you really have a complex about your eyes, huh?"

"Fuck, dude. You're starting to sound like Rose."

"No, it's just…I can't imagine something like that. Some pretty weird stuff must've happened to you, right? I dunno, I just think it's ridiculous."

As strange as it was, Dave didn't mind that John was talking about it so casually. It wasn't even pity. He was just thinking out loud. "Yeah."

"Er, not that I mean it was trivial or anything! I just…fuck, the game really screwed up my perception for a lot of things."

"S'cool, man. It did for me, too." Dave closed his eyes. It was always so fucking _bright_ without his shades on. The drugs had taken the pain away, but the light still made him uncomfortable. And yet… "Damn. It's a lot clearer."

"What? Your vision? No shit, man." John laughed. This time it wasn't as strained. He was getting back into his silly friend mode. Dave wondered how he could change moods so quickly. So easily.

"Yeah, man. Now I can actually fucking see your house."

"What, are you going to say it's lame? I know your apartment must be a thousand times—"

"No. I wasn't going to say that at all. Fuck, dude. I was just going to say your house is actually pretty cool. It must be life living here. It's really…" Dave strived to find a word. "…comfortable."

John grinned. "Thanks, man. That actually means a lot to me."

"It's really…peaceful."

"Hey, hey, are you falling asleep? That's not good! We totally have a night of movies ahead of us."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll watch your shitty movies. Let me just close my eyes for a little."

"Yeah, I guess I shouldn't rush you. It must be weird not wearing shades after, what, ten years?"

"Fourteen."

"Fou—shit, seriously? That long?"

"Long as I can remember."

"Wow, that's pretty messed up."

"No kidding."

"How's your face feeling?"

"It's okay. The drugs helped."

"Good. I don't think it swelled much, thankfully."

"Yeah."

"Do you want a drink or anything?"

"Uh, water. If that's cool."

"Yeah, no problem!" John jumped up, eager to help Dave feel better so that they could get to watching his _awesome_ movies and having fun. He really wanted to show Dave all the cool things he liked. He wanted Dave to like them, too. Then they could be even better bros.

"Here it is! I—Dave, are you okay?"

"Yeah, man. I just…your house is so nice and cold."

"That's the air conditioning, idiot," John replied, smiling his goofy smile. "I thought you had air conditioning, too."

"It's nice and blue."

"What? Oh, yeah, I guess. I never really paid attention to that."

"It's a good change. There's no heat and no fire and no spinning. It's just cool windy shit. Nice and simple."

"Dave, what are you talking about? Seriously, I don't understand at all."

Dave sat up, blinking. "Ugh. Sorry, man. I was sort of out of it for a minute."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, man. I'm cool." Dave stood up, downed half the glass of water, and looked around. "What say we watch your shitty movies now."

"They're good movies, Dave! Geez. I'll show you how awesome The Cage can be!"

"Alright, man. You'd better deliver. I am totally prepared to have them bombard my senses with ironic goodness."

"By the time I'm through with you, you will be a fucking Cagian."

"I'd fucking better."

"Come on, we can watch them in my room."

Dave watched as John ran up the stairs, following lazily behind. John was a good kid. There were a lot of places today could have gone, none of them good. But it had been John and John didn't care. Though it had been painful at first, Dave had to admit it could have gone a lot worse. But they didn't. No, John was a normal kid. And when he was with John, _he_ felt like a normal, too.

"Dude, we have to start with Con Air!"

"Whatever you say, lil' bro."


	33. Lens 33

**Obscura ~ Age 16**

"Are you okay?"

Dave stared down at the phone in his hand. Where the fuck was he?

Well, his own room, clearly. But how had he gotten here? He remembered something about a party, and then…then… He vaguely remembered talking to someone. Was he typing? Or on the phone?

"Dave? Come on, you're starting to worry me. I tried calling you again last night but I didn't get an answer. Well, I mean, it's not like there was much night left, but…"

"Sorry," Dave rasped.

"Shit, man. Are you okay? You sound awful."

"I fucking feel awful. What the hell. Don't drink faygo at parties, man. Just…just don't. Especially if a fucking juggalo offers it to you."

"Uh. What?"

"No, never mind. Just keep being a smartass good kid, man." Dave crushed his face into the pillows. He felt nauseous.

"Dude, what happened last night, anyway?"

"I may have gone over my limit in the drink department. It's all cool."

"No, it isn't, Dave! We're sixteen!"

"So."

"What do you mean, 'so'! We're underage!"

Dave was tempted to just repeat the word again. Out of respect to his friend, he didn't. "Damn, man, my head is killing me."

"Well, no shit! I bet you have a massive hangover!"

Dave curled up onto his side, his stomach muscles aching painfully. "Where the fuck are my clothes."

"Uh. What?"

"Where the fuck—ouch, fuck. Why are my shades on my head. Shit. I hope they didn't get bent."

"You'd better take care of those, Dave! It took me forever to get them for you, you know!"

"Don't worry, man. They've been through worse." Dave pulled the sunglasses from his head and set them on his bedside table.

"Dave…"

"Shit. Sorry, man. I didn't mean it like that."

There was a long pause. Dave felt too sick to worry. He focussed on breathing, instead. And maybe figuring out where the hell his pants had gone.

"Dave, it's my fault."

"What."

"It's my fault."

"What are you talking about."

Pause. "That you had to play the game."

"What."

"I'm sorry, Dave." The voice on the line was trembling. "I'm really sorry."

"Shit. No. What the hell. What are you even—just what."

"I told you to play. I'm sorry. I just…I…."

"Don't be stupid. If I didn't play, Rose would've died, right?" Dave collapsed back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling.

"But—"

"Don't go down that road, man. I've been there. It's really not a good fucking place."

"I know. I just…"

"It's not your fault, John."

John made a funny noise on the other end of the receiver. "What?"

"What."

"You called me John!"

"Yeah, so."

"You never do that!"

"Fuck, man, way to ruin a moment. I was about to get all bro on your ass but nope, now I'm not feeling it anymore."

"What? No! I want to know what you were going to say."

"Well, it's too fucking late now, isn't it?"

"Daaave…"

"Shit, man. My stomach is all up in my business like a hopped-up clown on too many fucking drugs. I've gotta go. I'll pester you later or something."

"If you say so, Dave."

Dave pressed the little red _end call_ button and snapped the lid of his cell shut. He dropped his arm over his eyes.

From the beginning, he never had any intention of telling John his feelings about the game. And yet, deep down, he knew John probably wouldn't, either. Every so often, the game would come up in conversations. But then one of them would quickly change the topic and they wouldn't have to worry about it any more. They would never have to talk about the game. They never _could_.

He snorted.

_Fuck_, he thought dryly. _We're so broken._


	34. Lens 34

**Obscura ~ Age 17**

_Fwip, fwip, fwip._

Dave scanned the record selection, flipping through the cases. None of them appealed to him. Country, country, country, preaching. Wait, what? What was that doing here? Dave frowned.

"Can I help you with anything? Is everything okay?"

"What." Dave looked up. He narrowed his eyes, trying to place a name with the face. "You're in my class, aren't you."

"Don't tell me you don't remember me!" she replied, grinning. "It's me, Ariana!"

"Hey." Dave glanced around the shop, adjusting his shades. "You work here."

"Yeah, of course. It's the only place that lets me listen to music all day."

"That sounds like a pretty sweet job."

"It totally is! But there are some really creepy guys that come in here sometimes. That's not so fun." She grimaced. "There's this one guy with broken teeth…ugh."

"Shit, man. Need me to lay a beatdown on his ass."

She laughed a musical laugh. "No, no. It's okay. I'm stronger than I look, you know."

"Yeah. I figured." Dave began flipping through the cases again. Country, country, country, jazz. Maybe he could use the jazz? But it wasn't really what he was looking for at all…

"Do you need me to help you find something?"

Dave did. A lot. But he wasn't about to admit it. "Nah, it's cool. I've got this."

"Are you sure? Because I can help you find some really awesome beats for only a few dollars."

"Shit. Seriously. That is pretty fucking tempting."

"I knew you'd see it my way. Wait here." She ducked behind the front desk and through the back door, returning moments later with a huge cardboard box. "These are—ah!"

Dave flashed across the room, grabbing the box before she overbalanced. "Shit, be careful. You alright."

"Sorry! Yeah, I'm okay. And thanks! That was pretty sweet."

"What."

"What you just did! I didn't know you could do that."

"Do what."

"Don't play games with me! That was flashstepping, wasn't it?"

"What."

"Don't tell me a cool guy like you doesn't know what flashstepping is! I'm on to your tricks!" Ariana set the box on her desk. "But it's okay."

Obviously, Dave knew what flashstepping was. He knew what is was before it even had a fucking name. What he didn't know was how he had managed to do it in the middle of the store.

He had never been able to flashstep before.

His brain just kind of stopped functioning. He wasn't sure what to think. Had all those years of watching Bro paid off? But no, that's not possible. Bro was too fast. And it wasn't like Bro gave him tips, either. Bro was all about making Dave learn the hard way, the way he had learned it.

"Dave? You okay?"

"What. Right. Sorry." Dave dragged his thoughts back to the task at hand: record selecting. "Wow, you're right. These are some bitching labels."

"Take whatever you want. They're dirt cheap."

"Wait, why are they so cheap. Shit. Are you trying to sell me scratched records? That ain't gonna fly."

"Of course I'm not selling you scratched records! Jegus! Can't you just accept my good will?"

"What's in it for you."

"You're such an idiot!" But she laughed. "We're classmates, right? Why _shouldn't_ I give you a discount? Besides, I've heard some of your mixes. You played some songs for the band competitions, right? I like your stuff."

"You went to that."

"Of course I did. I was in it, stupid!"

"What. Seriously."

Ariana reached across the desk and tapped the lens of his sunglasses. "Well, it was dark. Maybe you couldn't see me through that tinted glass?"

Dave was having an internal freak out. Memories of stolen shades were surfacing and his mind was already halfway out the door. He was so terrified he could only stare dumbly at her. Ariana didn't seem to notice.

"Don't you remember? We were called _Arisen Blind_ and we played right before you!"

"Did you. Shit. Sorry. I was sort of out of it that day." Dave forced himself to stay cool. It was fine. She was paying attention to other things now. She wasn't going to grab his glasses and run away. She wasn't fucking five. He was an idiot for thinking that.

"You're _always_ out of it," she chuckled. "But that's okay."

"Yeah." Dave flipped through the box and made himself a little pile of records. With every case he pulled out, Ariana would give him a brief list of details about the songs and the composers. She was surprisingly well versed on all of them.

"Are those all the ones you want?"

"Yeah. Thanks, man. This is…really helpful."

"No problem!" Ariana hefted up the box.

"Do you want me to take that for you."

"Nah, it's okay. It's lighter now." She grinned, then carried it to the back. She returned to ring him up. Dave pulled out his wallet and gave her a wad of bills. She calculated the change and dropped it into his hand. "Make sure you make some cool beats with these, okay?"

"What else would I do."

She laughed. "Have fun, cool kid."

"Yeah. You too."


	35. Lens 35

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

"Hey, cool kid, is that you?"

"Fuck, man. You scared the hell out of me. What the fuck was that."

"Hehehe. Like I said before, sensory overload." Teresa sat up, rubbing her head.

"Shit, you can't even see. How does that even work."

"Fakey fake magic, that's how." She tapped her nails against the ground. "Where are we now? Outside the club, I'm assuming, from the smell." Her nose twitched.

"No shit. I had to drag you out, you were about to get fucking trampled."

"Hehehe. Well aren't _you_ the big hero."

"I'm not a fucking hero. I don't know why you keep saying that."

"Because you are a hero, obviously."

"So are you like, okay. Did you hit your head or anything."

"Oh, the cool kid is worried about me. Hehehe."

"No shit, you just suddenly collapsed in front of me. What the hell. Kaden is going to have a fucking fit, he's going to think it's all my fault."

"Hehehe you are right. He will definitely flip out. It will be funny."

"Yeah, you don't have to fucking live with that asshole."

"I think he probably won't do anything to you. I will make sure of that." Teresa frowned. "Where are we?"

"I don't know. Some parking lot."

"I am surprised you could see in the dark like this."

"Like what."

"Don't play stupidy-stupid dumb with me. You are wearing shades, right?"

"How the fuck did you know that."

"I know everything!" Teresa leaned back, stretching her arms out behind her.

"Anyway, I took them off for a few seconds to decide where to go. Mystery fucking solved."

"That's too bad. I would have liked to see your eyes."

"You wouldn't be able to see them anyway. You're _blind_. Unless you've been lying to me."

"Don't be rude! I have not been lying."

"So you can't see anything, right."

"No. It is all blackness. Hehehe."

Dave glanced around. The parking lot was empty. Falteringly, he reached up and pulled his shades off. He felt rebellious. Teresa grinned. Shit. Did she know? No, it wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

"Hey, cool kid. Let me touch your face."

Dave froze. "What."

"Let me touch your face! I want to know who I am talking to."

"Why would I fucking let you touch me."

"Don't tell me you are that stupid! I can't see you, so all I have right now is a voice. But if I touch your face, I will know what you look like!"

"Fuck that."

"Hehehe. Do you hate being touched so much?"

"I just don't want some crazy girl feeling up my beautiful visage, okay. Is that so weird. Besides, you're my roommate's fucking girlfriend. I don't really want to piss him off any more than I have to."

"I would not worry. He is always angry. Hehehe."

"Shit, man, I know. But there's a line, you know."

"You are being silly! This isn't sexual. I just want to know what you look like! It is very frustrating talking to someone you can't see."

"Why would it bother you. You can't fucking see _anything_."

"It's really fun how you keep reminding me! Yes, I can't see anything. That is why I need to feel it!" She was still grinning her crazy grin. "I think you are just afraid."

"What the hell would I be afraid of."

"You are afraid of people." She chattered her laugh. "You are all like, 'how do I emotions?' so you just don't try."

"That's stupid."

"Yes. You are also stupid. Hehehe. But it is okay, it is just how you are." She frowned. "But I think it will hurt you if you keep acting like this."

"Acting like fucking _what_."

"You can't keep your friends out forever, cool kid. You'll break."

"Yeah, well, I'm already pretty fucking broken. I don't think it matters."

"It is okay to talk to me about your wittle problems, pupa."

Dave froze. "What did you say."

"It is okay to talk to me about your wittle problems, baby."

"You said 'pupa'."

"No, I didn't. You are silly." She laughed.

"Fuck. Now I'm going insane." He rested his face in his hands, palms burning stars into his eyes.

"Don't worry, cool kid. Life is more fun when you are off your rocker. I should know."

"Shit."

Teresa felt along the ground until her fingers met with the fabric of Dave's shirt. She found his arms and gently pushed his hands away.

"What are you—"

"I take what I want," she replied simply. "Right now, I want to know what you look like." She ran her hands over his cheeks, his nose, his mouth. "Oh, cool kid is quite the handsome fellow. I was not wrong in my assumption!"

Dave forced himself to accept the face grope. Teresa was right. If he was going to keep his friends, if he was ever going to get close to anyone, he'd have to learn to bear with it. He grit his teeth.

"That is a funny expression you are making. Is that your usual look? Hehehe."

"Are you done yet."

"Hehehe, you're turning red, aren't you?"

"Fuck, man. You're just fucking with me, you actually have perfect vision, don't you."

"Of course I don't! Would you like to see my eyes?"

"Hell no."

"Hehehe good. But your face feels very warm."

Dave was panicking. He could feel the heat rising in his body. Fear, embarrassment, anxiety—they were all boiling to the surface. He wanted to run.

Suddenly, she let go. "Thank you. I now have a pretty good idea of who I am talking to now!"

"Good." Dave rubbed his throat, trying to regulate his breathing. Shit. She'd notice if he was breathing quickly, wouldn't she? She had fucking bat hearing.

But if she did notice, she said nothing, choosing instead to lean back on her palms again. "Thank you, hero. I am sure that was hard for you."

"Fuck, man. I'm not a hero."

"Hmm, maybe not. But you are definitely a good guy!"

And then she laughed.


	36. Lens 36

**Obscura ~ Age 15**

Dave lay listlessly on his bed, listening to the endless thudding of raindrops against his window. Fuck rain. Fuck water. He curled up into a ball, wishing it would stop.

His phone vibrated.

[ectoBiologist has begun pestering turntechGodhead]

EB: good morning dave!

TG: what

TG: why are you still doing that thing

EB: what thing?

TG: that eight thing

EB: what?

EB: oops, sorry

EB: i mean, what?

TG: fuck it never mind

EB: you okay, dave?

TG: what yeah i'm fine

EB: are you sure?

EB: this didn't really bother you before!

EB: my "eight thing", that is haha

TG: no im cool

TG: its just this fucking rain

EB: you don't like rain?

TG: fuck no

TG: i feel awful

EB: don't feel bad for the rain, dave!

TG: no  
>TG: just no<p>

EB: if you feel sick, dave, you should go to a doctor!

TG: what

TG: no im fine

TG: just a little nausea

TG: the rain is pouring down on the city and it is fucking with me like the wet sonofabitch that it is

TG: fuck rain

EB: rain is good, dave! everything needs water to survive!

TG: i can deal with water

TG: i cant deal with rain

EB: seriously, man, you should go to a doctor if you feel like that.

TG: no its fine

EB: dave!

EB: oops, sorry

EB: i mean, it could be something bad, right?

EB: even if you don't think it's important, you should go.

Dave rested his arm over his eyes, breathing slowly. He didn't want to say anything to John, but he wasn't entirely sure they had health insurance. He didn't want to bother going to the doctor with something stupid like this and end up costing Bro thousands of dollars. Bro worked too hard for that.

TG: no man its just the rain

TG: seriously this has happened before

EB: you've never said anything like this before!

TG: well yeah it didnt fucking rain before when i talked to you

TG: pretty fucking dry down here

TG: the sun has decided that this town is its own personal fucking domain

TG: it is king of the skies

TG: beaming down on all us poor bitches and burning up the asphalt

EB: except today.

TG: yeah not today

TG: today our heat god was all like no sorry bitches

TG: gonna just pop out to get some fucking faygo at the store

TG: enjoy this shitstorm of torrential downpour all up in your city

TG: drowning rats and shit

TG: and children

EB: dave, i doubt it's raining that much!

TG: lets just say im glad im in one of the top apartments

EB: so you're sure it's just the rain then?

TG: yeah pretty fucking sure

EB: did you tell bro about it?

TG: no

EB: dave, that's not good! he should know if you're sick, right?

TG: fuck no

TG: im not telling him that

TG: hed probably pull some sort of stupid shit

TG: make a rap about it

EB: i think he would want to help you!

EB: maybe he has some medicine or something you could take

TG: fuck that im not taking his sketchy drugs

TG: last time i did that i was stoned for a fucking week

TG: heres a heads up, dont take expired fucking cough syrup

TG: that shit is magic

TG: dark magic

TG: ursula style

TG: all with tentacles wrapping around your insides

EB: ew! that's horrible!

TG: right

TG: sorry

EB: i still think you should tell bro, especially since you don't want to go to the doctor's.

Telling Bro would be like a personal failure. Not once did he remember going to Bro when he was sick. His mouth tightened. He didn't need to.

It was always Bro that found out.

TG: what would i say

TG: hey bro sup

TG: just gonna puke on the couch for a few minutes

TG: dont mind me

TG: its just this shitty rain

TG: nah man thats stupid

TG: im sure itll be fine when the rain goes away

TG: besides

TG: he probably feels the same

TG: i think thats why we always moved to sunny cities

TG: all like nah bro rain is for losers

TG: sunny skies is where its at

EB: it rains at rose's place a lot

TG: point fucking made

EB: dave, i don't know how to convince you but

EB: i'm pretty worried, so just do your best to get better, okay, man?

TG: shit

TG: i don't need you worrying about me

TG: worry about yourself

TG: you seem like one of those kids that gets sick all the time

EB: i do not!

EB: just sometimes

TG: sometimes

EB: everyone gets sick sometimes!

EB: go to bed!

TG: i am in bed

EB: you know what I mean!

TG: k

EB: and take care of yourself!

EB: i cant lose my big brother now!

TG: guess not

TG: alright

TG: just for you man

TG: see the rain is letting up im already starting to feel a little better

EB: oh, good! i'm glad.

TG: yeah

EB: talk to you later then, dave!

TG: k

[ectoBiologist has ceased pestering turntechGodhead]

Dave had lied.


	37. Lens 37

**Obscura ~ Age 16**

"You are one stupid fucking asshole, you know that?"

"Piss orf."

"I can't believed you pulled a stunt like that. I thought you were fucking _smart_."

"Well, obvriouzee your were wrooong."

"No shit." Bro knelt beside Dave on the pavement, grabbing his arm and pulling it across the shoulders. In one swift movement, he dragged the inebriated kid to his feet. "Do you know how hard it was to find you?"

"Maybe yew shoulda taken off yer glasses, heee," said Dave, making a very uncharacteristic giggling noise. "Can't see nuffin in the dark, eh. Eh. Ehhhhh."

"Jegus, you are fucking drunk off your ass. What the hell is wrong with you? You could've died, you dumb shit." Bro started forward, Dave stumbling along at his side, weaving and wobbling.

"You don't know meeee."

"Obviously not. Fuck, David, I had to ask like eight different douchebags at that stupid party where the hell you went. No one knew. What the hell is wrong with you, going off like that?"

"I swear to Gog I'm not…I'm not…I'm going to puke."

"You'd better fucking not. I'll strangle you."

Dave paused. "Nah, 's'cool. I got this."

Bro grunted, adjusting the weight distribution. Dave was more on him than off and the kid, skinny as he was, wasn't exactly the lightest guy he'd ever helped home. "Jegus. Learn to fucking handle your alcohol."

"Fuckyew. I can totally fucking… I can totally fucking… Shit, what was I saying."

"You were telling me what a gargantuan dumbfuck you are."

"Oh, yeah. That's right. I'm…am…the prickiest prick that ever, uh, prack. Wait. What."

"Hell if I know." Bro wrenched open the door to his battered car and flung Dave inside. Dave bounced on the seat once, looking rather disoriented.

"Ow. Fuckyew. That fuckin hurt you fucker."

"Good." Bro slammed the door shut.

Dave waited until he knew Bro was at the driver's side door before he acted.

"So long, fucker," he said, kicking the door back open and falling out. "Fuck," he said into a faceful of pavement. "That fucking hurt."

"What the fuck are you doing? Get back in the car," Bro ordered.

"You don't own me," Dave replied, pushing himself back up. He wobbled a bit, then started sprinting down the street.

"You fucking—" was all Bro could manage before he had to take off after the kid. Bro was faster—much faster—but Dave's drunken antics made him unpredictable. He ducked and dodged Bro's attempts at capture with a serene finesse. The kid was a fucking eel.

"Can't catch me," Dave said. "Can't catch me. Can't catch me. Can't—ow. Fuck." He recoiled, having flung himself backwards into a wall in one of his lesser dodges. He rubbed his head. "Fuck. I'm dying, man. I'm dying. This is a doomed timelime, man, I'm fucked."

"What the hell?" Bro panted. The night was way too hot, way too humid for this kind of bullshit.

"It's a doomed timeline, man. We're all going to die. We are so fucked. We'd better just lie down and take it like the fucking pussies we are and—"

"David, what the hell are you saying?"

Dave reached up and tore off Bro's glasses, throwing them down behind a garbage bin a ways off to the side. He repeated the action with his own shades and grabbed Bro by the arms, staring straight into his eyes. "This. Is. A. Doomed. Timeline."

"That doesn't make any sense." Bro narrowed his eyes. "David, you are drunk. Do you understand? You have no idea what you're doing."

"No, man. I know. I fucking know. It's clear now." Dave raked his fingers through his hair shakily, leaning back against the brick wall. "It's clear. It's too clear. It's like that time. This is how it happens, man, this is how it ends. I fucked up somewhere, this loop isn't stable, I did something wrong." He slid down to the ground, scraping the skin of his back as he went. He was too intoxicated to notice.

"David." Bro knelt in front of him. "What do you mean?"

"It's a doomed timeline. You weren't there—at least, I don't think you were. I don't know. I don't remember. I never remembered. I don't know until it happens, because they're not me. But they're me. Shit. I must have split from Alpha Dave at some point, I made a stupid decision. Now I'm going to die. I'm just a fucking Beta."

"Take a deep breath."

"Fuck you. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if I keep breathing now. It's going to stop eventually. This is a doomed timeline."

"Everyone dies, David."

"No shit. I'm not a fucking kid, you asshole. This is different. This isn't the same. I fucked up, now there are going to be piles of dead Daves just fucking everywhere, and I'm going to be one of them."

"I'm here, David. It's okay."

"It's not fucking okay. I fucked up and now you're going to die, too. Everyone is. We're all fucked and it's all my fault." Dave shrunk back, covering his head with his arms. "We're all going to die. We're all going to die."

"Shit. No, we aren't. Dave, this isn't a doomed timeline. You aren't dying. You just hit your fucking head, that's all. I don't even think you're bleeding. You're just too fucking smashed to realize it."

"No, no, no. We're all living out this doomed timeline and none of us will notice because we haven't hit the end yet. I know, though. I'm the fucking Knight of Time or whatever that shitty title was. I know the signs, even if this is the first time I…"

"What?"

"I don't want to die."

"I know."

"I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. Shit."

"You aren't dying. You're piss drunk, but you're not dying. Shit, man. If I knew you were this kind of drunk, I never would have let you go to this stupid party." Bro pulled Dave closer and the kid curled into a ball. "Are you crying, man?"

"Fuck you. No, I'm not crying. I don't fucking cry. I don't have fucking tear ducts."

"Sure, sure." Bro rubbed Dave's back between the shoulder blades. He could see the long red scratches from the wall peeking out from the bottom of his shirt. Shit. "Look, man. I…I know I wasn't there for a lot of things, okay? I missed a lot of shit. I wish I could have helped you then, but like the asshole I am, I went and died on you. I guess, what I'm trying to say is…I can help you now, right? I mean, I'm alive now. You don't have to be scared or alone anymore."

Dave stayed wound up in his tight little ball. It looked like he had no intention of ever moving again.

"Shit. Why are you making me do this, you asshole?" Bro laughed humourlessly. "You know how shitty I am with feelings. Well, I guess not as fucking Gog-awful as you, but fuck. I don't know what to say that can help fix you. I don't even know what's broken."

Slowly, Dave sat up. He looked awful. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his face was a bright shade of red. He looked blearily up at his brother. "What." Bro wanted suddenly to punch him.

Fucking kid hadn't even been listening.

"Stupid prick." Bro snorted and stood up. He retrieved the shades from behind the garbage bins, returned them to their respective facial positions and then hoisted Dave up and over his shoulder.

"Fuck," wheezed Dave. "Put me down."

"And let you run off again? I fucking think not." So Bro carted Dave back down the road, carrying him like a squirming sack of potatoes.

"Geroff me," Dave grunted. Bro just tossed him in the back of the car and flashed to the driver's seat, locking the doors before Dave could pull another stupid stunt.

Once home, he managed to drag the idiot out of the car again and up the stairs in the parking lot to the elevator. He kept a firm grasp on Dave's wrist the entire way.

"Fucking let go of me."

"Nope. Not happening."

"It's hot."

"No shit. It doesn't help having you run around like a dumbass."

"It's really hot."

"Yeah, it—_what the hell are you doing, stop taking your clothes off, we're in a gogdamn elevator._"

"It's hot," was all Dave replied. Bro snatched him up again before he could reach another level on the naked scale and lugged him back to their apartment. He unlocked the door with one hand and then shouldered it open. He dumped Dave on the kitchen floor and went to the cupboards to get a cup. He filled it with water and turned.

"Drink this, it'll help you—_where the fuck are your pants_?"

"There are many theories on that subject," Dave replied. "Pants are a human invention of constriction, based solely on the somewhat arbitrary decision of…shit, what was I saying again. Right. Fuck pants. That's why."

"For fuck's sake, don't run around the kitchen in your fucking tighty-whities, that's disgusting. I have to fucking eat here, man."

Dave shrugged. "No worse than puppet porn."

"_It is very, very much worse._" He thrust the glass into Dave's hand. Dave sloppily downed it, getting more on himself than in his mouth. Bro just grunted and rubbed his temples between his fingers. Fucking kid.

"Go to bed," he ordered.

"Yer not my mom," Dave replied.

"Just fucking do it."

Dave bobbed to his feet and stumbled off towards his room. Bro sighed. That fucking kid.

But he wasn't quite prepared to let the doomed timeline ramble go just yet.


	38. Lens 38

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Dave stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a long time-longer than he ever had before, and he was a pretty vain guy. He clutched the sides of the porcelain sink between his fingers, staring at his reflection. He didn't know why he was doing it. He didn't care. As far as he was concerned, the moment he moved was the moment reality would break and he'd fall back into that Gog-awful dream.

He knew he was being stupid. He knew that he could turn away from the mirror any time he wanted. He wouldn't stop existing. He wouldn't be sent back, either. He could hear the cars honk down on the streets. He could hear people yelling in the rooms below him. They existed. He existed. It wasn't going to change just because he stopped looking at himself for a minute.

His eyes were red and tired, so red they almost matched his irises. He snorted. No, that's not possible. He'd have to pull a Terezi for that to happen.

Dave took a deep breath and looked down. He forced himself to screw the taps open and splash water on his face. It was cold. That was real, right? Lohac was all fire and heat and gears. There was no water. Certainly no _cold_ water, at least. Logically, this couldn't be Lohac. This was his old apartment building in his old city on his own fucking planet. If he looked at the sky, there would be clouds and sun and space, but it wouldn't be fucking Skaia.

Shakily, he left the bathroom. Bro had obviously gone out, but he would be back soon. That asshole hadn't even turned off the TV. It was still blaring some shitty anime. The colours hurt Dave's eyes, so he flicked the off button. He sank to the couch and stared up at the ceiling. What the hell was he doing? He was free now.

The problem was, he didn't _feel_ free.

He still felt very much like he was in the game.


	39. Lens 39

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

Dave stared out the window of his dorm room. Fat flakes of snow were drifting to the ground, coating the grass in a blanket of white. A chill breeze was slithering in from the sides of the glass pane, but Dave didn't want to close the blinds just yet. They'd block the draft, yes, but Dave didn't care about that. He just wanted to watch the snow fall.

"What the hell are you doing, dickface?"

Dave spun around in his chair. "What. Why are you in my room."

"Don't get all mushy, assmuffin. I just wanted to know what you got on the last essay."

"Eighty-seven."

"You're fucking lying. There is no way a dumb shit pinkass beat swallowing nut nugget like you could get higher than me."

"Get another sixty, then, did you." Dave leaned on his desk, smirking at his roommate. "Maybe if you cut out the cursing, you'd get a better mark."

"Seriously. How the shit did you pull something like that off. You don't even fucking study. I've _watched_ you."

Dave shrugged. "First off, that is one fucking creepy confession you just made there, dude. Second, I do study, you're just never paying attention when I do."

"You fucking don't."

Dave tapped the headphones resting at his throat. "I record the lectures, dipshit. I listen to them while I do other stuff. That's studying, isn't it."

"What? You're actually allowed to fucking do that?"

"Well, yeah. If you ask. Did you seriously never consider it." Dave laughed. "Wow, you are seriously dumber than I thought."

"Fuck you!" Kaden snapped. "Only cheaters and wimps record lectures. _Real_ men write notes by hand!"

"Yeah, man. That's why you got a sixty."

"I didn't get a fucking sixty, you ass-muppet dong wrangler!"

"It's cool, man. I don't care." Dave shrugged, slipping his headphones on. The signal to leave the room was lost on Kaden.

Kaden bit down hard on his lip. "Fuck. No. What I'm trying to say is—"

"You want me to tutor you."

"What! No! why the fuck would I ever want a braindead turkey licking maggot to try and teach me! I could feed my testicles to living crocodiles and _still_ get better marks than if I studied with you!"

"Cool story, bro." Dave spun around in his chair so that he faced the window again. It didn't snow much back home. The simple cold was soothing. After the game, he had always felt so hot, like he was always on Lohac… But the snow eased that feeling a little. He wondered if he should just move to some perpetually snowy country.

Maybe he'd move to Canada.

"Look, you raging douchefuck assbag, I just—"

"Can't live without me, I know. Sorry, man. I'm taken. I've already got a little brother to take care of, that's enough of a responsibility. He'll overdose on shitty movies if I'm not around to—"

"Listen to me, you hog scum, I'm trying to say something!"

"So fucking spit it out already." Kaden's constant pestering was starting to annoy Dave. All he wanted to do was watch the fucking snow. Was that too much to ask? The calming effect was starting to vanish already, he could feel the hot tension running down his back and shoulders again. Fuck. What had his douchebag psychology professor said? Meditation.

Fuck meditation.

"What the fuck do you want," Dave prompted again.

"I'm only going to say this once."

"So fucking say it," Dave snapped.

"Could you…perhaps…lend me your notes?"

"Jegus, I just told you I don't take fucking notes, I record lectures and listen to them. For fuck's sake, do you ever listen."

"Shut up!" Kaden snarled. "Never mind, then! If you aren't going to be helpful, I'll leave you to squander your own assholish excuse for a life watching the fucking frozen water get shit from the clouds!"

"Sounds good to me," Dave replied.

"No, fuck, I didn't mean that. Don't listen to me, I'm an asshole. I mean, past me is. Fuck. Is there any way I can—"

"Jegus, just shut up." Dave unplugged his music player. "Catch, dipshit." He tossed the device over his shoulder carelessly and Kaden hastily grabbed it from the air, clutching it tightly between his hands.

"Shit. Seriously? Are you sure?"

"Fuck, just go away. You'd better give that back to me. You don't even want to know what will happen if you don't. I have an older brother, man. I know revenges that will make your fucking hair turn grey."

"Alright. Thanks, I guess."

Dave waited. Kaden still hadn't left. "Now what."

"This is stupid, but…"

"Just fucking tell me." Dave pinched the bridge of his nose. He was starting to feel a headache coming on.

"Can I borrow your headphones, too?"


	40. Lens 40

**Obscura ~ Age 15**

Dave stared at the wizard statue for longer than he was comfortable with. He couldn't help it—it was as if the gaudy decoration would spring to life the moment he turned away. So he locked eyes with it and stared on.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing." Dave finally tore his gaze away. "So, uh, what are we doing, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you invite me here. It's a pretty long drive, man."

Rose pursed her lips. "I wanted to spend some quality family time. Is that not allowed?"

"Jegus, man. How does _knowing_ make anything different."

"It doesn't."

"Then why did you drag me all the way out here. It's fucking cold, man."

Rose's cheeks turned a little pink with embarrassment. "I can turn up the thermostat if that would please you. During all of my passive aggressive battles with my mother, I believe that this was one of the first. For you, however, I will surrender this one."

"Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean to insult you or anything, man."

"The damage is done. Let me turn on the heat. I shall return promptly." Rose vanished behind a couple of statues, leaving Dave to once again contemplate the decoration on the coffee table. It _knew_. He didn't know what it knew, but it _knew._ He shuddered. Fuck. These little assholes were almost as creepy as the puppets.

"It will take a while to come into effect."

"Yeah. Shit. Sorry, Rose, I really didn't—"

"It's fine." Rose shook her head and sat on the couch beside him. They spent the next few minutes in awkward silence, both staring at the little wizard.

"Really, Rose, I do want to know why you suddenly wanted me to come all the way out here. Is something wrong. Are you okay."

"Yes, I am fine," Rose replied. She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I just…"

"Just what."

"Jegus, Strider, let me finish. I just…I've always wanted to know what it was like to have a sibling."

"What."

"Is it that difficult to understand? All I've had is a psychotic mother. Is it so bad if I want to expand my family? To reach some level or normalcy?"

"Look, man. Having a brother isn't all that amazing." Dave waved his hand dismissively. "Trust me."

"I will assume that you are referring to Bro."

"No shit."

"But you aren't Bro. You are you."

"No shit."

"Can you not see the point I'm trying to make?"

"Why don't you spell it out for me."

"Strider, you are insufferable."

"Hey, man. You're the one who told me to come out to the middle of nowhere."

"Strider."

"What."

"I just want to have a family."

"Family is overrated."

Rose looked away. 'I suppose I would not be the most desirable sister."

"What."

"Perhaps my dream is all for naught. I'm sorry for making you take this trip, Strider."

"What. No. Shit. Rose. Are you crying? Shit."

"I'm not crying, fool. I am just disappointed."

"In me."

"No, in myself. I shouldn't have forced such an idiotic notion on you."

Dave rubbed his temples. "Shit. No, Rose. Don't be like this. Look, I… It's actually kind of cool that you're my sister. I just don't really…"

"Want me."

"No. Shit. Don't put words in my mouth, man. That's not cool. No, I just don't know how to be your brother."

"What do you mean? You seem to have accepted Egbert as your little brother fairly easily, and you aren't even related. Yet."

"'Yet', what the hell. And Jegus, Rose, of course it was easy with Egbert. He was already my bro."

"I see. I suppose I have never really acted in a sisterly manner."

"Shit, no, that's all you do, Rose. All of your psychoanalysis bullshit is just like sistery pestering."

"Then I don't understand your problem."

"It's just…a lot to handle, okay. Suddenly acting all like a family. It's not something I can do, man. I'm not that kind of guy."

"I know, Strider." Rose put an arm across his back and he flinched, but stayed out of respect for her feelings. He gripped his jeans at the knees, stiff. "I know you're bad with feelings. I know I'm being selfish. I just…didn't want to be alone in the house anymore."

"Where's mom."

"Out."

"Out where."

"She's visiting someone. Does it matter? I just didn't want to be alone in the house. I was…frightened."

Dave sighed. "Yeah, man. I understand. I guess I can keep you company for a while, then. I'll be your brother or whatever."

Rose smiled and Dave could have almost sworn it wasn't sarcastic. "Thank you, Strider."

"No problem."


	41. Lens 41

**Obscura ~ Age -3**

"Strider, pay attention."

"I am paying attention."

"What was the last thing I said, then?"

"Well, miss, I'm pretty sure it was, 'Strider, pay attention.'"

The class erupts into giggles.

"See me after class."

A girl leaned over. "Shades, you really shouldn't push your luck like this all the time," she whispered.

He shrugged. "I'm not failing. I don't think she can do anything. Does it even matter?"

"Shades, if you get kicked out of this school, I will kill you. _Kill_. You. With my bare hands. I'll just pounce and tear you to shreds. Do you understand?"

"Jesus, fine. What do you want from me?"

"I just don't want you to get expelled, okay? It'd ruin my couples chart. So just play nice, 'kay?"

"Fuck, Netta. You and that stupid couples chart. Why does shitty gossip interest you so much?"

Netta pouted. "It interests me because it's fun! Why do I need a reason? Love is love!"

"Netta…" the teacher called.

"Eep." Netta hid behind her textbook.

He snorted. "Good job."

"Stop smirking at me, you're such a jerk! Stupid shades!"

"Weeby hat girl."

"One day, I'll steal those idiot glasses!"

"Nah, man. You can't do that. A cool guy can't be without his shades."

Netta narrowed her eyes, batting her eraser back and forth between her hands. "That's what you always say, but I think you're just trying to hide something!"

"Oh? What am I trying to hide?"

"Don't give me that flashy coolguy smile. You know what I'm talking about!"

"…do I? You're being pretty damn cryptic, you know."

"I think you have super special eyes! I bet you have like, really long eyelashes and bright blue irises and—"

"Nah, man. Nothing that exciting."

"—and I bet they sparkle so that everyone in the vicinity falls in love with you!"

"Wouldn't that fuck up your couples chart?"

"Che. You've done that already! Do you know how many spaces I had to add to the list just for you?"

"…no. How many?"

"No! You can't fool me with your sparkly stupid player smile. That's one thing I won't divulge! The couples chart is a secret, for my eyes only!"

"Netta! Strider!" the teacher warned, tapping the blackboard with a yardstick.

"Oh? What about that douchebag?"

She paused, snarling. "What do you mean?"

"I think you know."

"I do not! I have no idea what you're saying at all!"

"That guy you always talk to on Pesterchum."

"He is an idiot! He won't ever play with me, what a jerk!"

"Well, keep bothering him. I'm sure you'll get him to play with you eventually."

"Nuh-uh! He's totally not into it."

"Then dump him."

"No, I can't do that."

"Why? It'd wreck your chart?"

"No! Of course not! I update my chart all the time, it doesn't matter if the couples change. It's a very intensive hobby, you know!"

"It sounds like it."

"Anyway, I'm not going to get rid of him just yet. We're just…we're like…"

"Like special?"

"Yes! We're special!" She nodded enthusiastically. "He completes me, you know?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Don't be sad, Shades! You'll always be the cool guy in my heart."

"I, uh, wasn't really worried. But cool, I guess."

"You know, you're actually a pretty good friend. I always thought you were sort of an asshole!"

"Thanks, man. That's won—"

"_Netta, Strider, go stand out in the hall._" The teacher slammed her textbook down on the front desk, furious.

"Shit."


	42. Lens 42

**Obscura ~ Age 5**

"Hey, asshole. Take off your glasses."

"Fuck you. No."

"I like how quickly you said that. That was fucking fantastic."

"A cool guy never takes off his shades, man. Who was it that said that again? Right. You. Dumbass."

"Yeah, yeah, how about you shut the fuck up for a second? I need to see those shades."

"No. Fuck you."

"For fuck's sake, Dave. Take off the stupid shades for a second."

"No. Piss off."

Bro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. What did he expect? He had spent five years drilling it into the kid's head that he should never take his sunglasses off, after all. It was a testament to how powerful his lessons were. Maybe it had all been a mistake. Maybe he should have gone about it a different way. This was stupid.

"Take your fucking glasses off," Bro said, at a loss. What else could he say? He wasn't about to compose the kid a sonnet.

"No."

"Jesus, Dave. I need to loosen them, they'll crush your fucking little skull."

Dave shifted uncomfortably. The shades _had_ been feeling pretty tight lately. His head been hurting, too. "A cool guy never takes off his shades," he repeated, though falteringly.

"Look, man. It's cool. It's just us, right? Don't worry about it."

"A cool guy never—"

"Fuck. Okay. There's a corollary to that rule, okay?"

"A what."

"A co—shit. Okay. There's a, uh, second part to that rule, okay?"

"What second part."

"Jesus, Dave, a second part I forgot to tell you."

"I don't remember that."

"_Because I didn't fucking tell you, that's wh—_" Bro stopped himself. This would go nowhere. "Look, okay. There's a second, super secret part to that rule, okay?"

"A secret," Dave asked, feigning disinterest. In actuality, he was curious now. Bro was a pretty damn cool guy. His secrets were _special_.

"Yeah, man. A secret." Bro nodded. _Finally_. He had found the right combination of words to get the brat to pay attention. "Okay, look. There's a part of the rule that only we know about, okay?"

"I don't know about it."

"But you _will_ because I'm going to fucking _tell you_."

"Then tell me."

"_I'm getting to it, fuck_. Just let me talk for a second, okay? Jesus." Bro sighed. "Look, the second part of the rule is called the, uh, _gentlemen's glasses pact._"

"What's that."

"It's a, uh, secret gesture that can be performed when two super chill, super cool dudes are alone."

"Is it porn."

"Is it—no! Fuck, Dave, no. No, it's not porn."

"It sounds like porn."

"Jesus, what kind of a kid are you? No. Just—just no. It's not porn. Don't think that. Fuck."

"Then what. Get to the fucking point."

"Look, when one chill bro calls for a _gentlemen's glasses pact_, it means both bros can take off their glasses. Cool? It's a sign of, uh, broness. Brohood. Bro-ocity."

Dave pursed his lips, mulling it over in his mind. "That's stupid."

"No. Shit. Dave, it's not stupid. And it's, uh, fair, since it's both bros. Not just one. Right? It's like a law. If you call a gentlemen's glasses pact, you both have to obey. The bro calling it takes his off first, of course, it's a gesture of goodwill."

"Like pirates."

"What?"

"Like pirates and parley."

"Uh, sure. Okay. Whatever makes it easier for you to understand," Bro replied. _Whatever makes it work,_ he thought.

"Are you calling for a gentlemen's glasses pact, then. Is that what this is."

"Yes. Yes it is. Gentlemen's glasses pact, man. Show me those peepers."

"Take yours off first, asshole, you just said that those were the rules."

"Yes. Right. I did say that." Bro snatched off his own shades. "There. Cool? Now give me those glasses so I can adjust them. I might need to give you a new pair, actually, I'm not sure how much I can tinker with this pair now…"

Reluctantly, Dave took off his own glasses and handed them to Bro. He made it a point not to look at his brother's face. "Make sure they aren't shitty anime shades."

"No, fuck you. These are awesome shades and you will respect them because they are fucking amazing. I'll show you why when you're older."

"Show me now."

"Nah, man. You won't understand the subtle nuances of the plot."

"There are boobs, aren't there. Just so many tits."

"You don't even know, man. _You don't even know._"


	43. Lens 43

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

"Are you okay now." Dave stood up, brushing off the knees of his jeans. He pulled his shades from his collar and slipped them back on.

"Are you leaving me now, hero?" Teresa replied.

"Fuck, stop calling me that." Dave held out a hand to her. It took him a minute to realize she wouldn't—couldn't- notice. "Take my hand."

"Where is it?"

"Just stretch out your hand."

"Whatever you say, hero." Teresa reached up and Dave grabbed her wrist. He hauled her to her feet and started walking down the length of the parking lot. "Are we leaving now?"

"Well, the show should be done now."

"You don't want to play with me?"

Dave's mouth twitched. He didn't like the word "play." There were just so many connotations it held, none of them good. "I have to help Bro lug his shit home."

"Oh, please! I am sure he will understand if you have to walk a poor defenceless blind girl home!"

"You sure don't seem defenceless."

"Of course I am! Jegus, you are a terrible hero."

"No shit. I told you, I'm not a hero. I'm just a normal fucking guy, okay. Just stop calling me that."

"Hehehe, I don't know. That's a pretty interesting reaction. I like you, coolkid. You're funny."

"It's not a joke. Shit. Stop laughing."

"But you're so silly." Teresa linked arms with him. "Now, lead me back like a true gentleman!"

"I'm not that either, man. I'm just a guy. A normal, average, run-of-the-mill, regardlessly fucking handsome, intelligent, charming guy." But Dave shrugged uncomfortably. He sighed. "Okay, fine. Where do you live?"

"Alternia."

"What." Dave stopped suddenly and Teresa stumbled.

"Hey! Be careful when you do that!"

"Where did you say you live."

"Aleria. You know where it is, it's near the university. The intersection is Queen and Ebert."

"Right. Right. Yeah, okay. I know where that is. Sorry."

"Hehehe, you were definitely freaking out there for a second, cool kid."

"What. No. Of course not."

"You started breathing funny and talking oddly and walki—"

"No, you're wrong."

"I'm not wrong! My hearing is—"

"Teresa. You're wrong."

Teresa frowned. "Okay, if you say so, coolkid. My hearing is somehow impaired by all the previous noise. Does that make you feel better?"

"Just shut up for once."

"Hehehe. You are just like Nubby."

"What."

"Kaden! You are just like Kaden. Jegus, your hearing really is going, isn't it?" Teresa laughed.

"Fuck. No. No. This can't be happening." Dave rubbed his temples roughly. "Fuck."

"Are you alright, coolkid? Are you having a mental breakdown or something?"

"No. Shit. Can you…can you walk home yourself or something. My mind is getting pretty fuzzy."

"Did you drink anything funny? Don't leave your cup unattended at a rave! You should know that. You are the king of parties, aren't you? Hehehe."

"This isn't a fucking PSA, I didn't leave my cup—shit, Terezi, what the hell are you doing."

"Terezi? My name is Teresa. Wow, you really _are_ out of it, aren't you?"

"Fuck. Didn't I say Terezi. I'm mean Terezi. Gogdammit. _Terezi._ TERESA!"

"Wow, I didn't even know you could yell. To tell the truth, that was pretty weird." She grinned. "But still funny."

"Fuck, no, shut up Tere—sa."

"Confusing me with a past love? Hehehe."

"No. Shit. No. Who would—no."

"It's okay, coolkid. I don't mind. It is somewhat flattering, I guess. Hehehe."

"No, shit, we weren't—no. Stop. Just…fucking stop that." Dave crouched on the pavement. His head was starting to hurt. What the hell was wrong with him? What was he doing? This was so uncool. It wasn't even an ironic layer of uncool; it was just plain, shitty asshattery.

"Stand up, hero."

"Look, would you stop calling me that. It's seriously not funny."

"It's not a joke."

Reluctantly, Dave pushed himself back up. He felt a little faint. _Had_ he taken something? He never drank anything but bottled water at clubs. He had learned his lesson years ago. Shit. What if he had fucked up? Maybe someone _had_ found a way to drug him? No, that was stupid. Why would it only start working _now_? Teresa was just putting silly ideas into his head. This was just another one of her stupid mind games. She was just fucking with him. That was all. She was gaslighting him.

…or was she? Maybe if he just…if he just pulled off the sunglasses, or maybe got her to smile really, really wide, she would—

No. _Don't be a fuckass_, Dave thought. Humans are human. This is stupid. Dave was being stupid. _I am stupid_, Dave thought.

"Stupid stupid dumb," Teresa agreed.

"Shit, how the hell did you do that."

"It was written all over your face, pupa."

"_What the hell are you saying, you're blind_."

"Coolkid? Are you feeling okay?"

"_I asked you, what the hell are you saying_."

Teresa paused. "I didn't say anything, Dave. You just said something about 'blind', that's all I know. Are you hallucinating words into my mouth? What am I saying? Is it rude? Hehehe."

Dave grit his teeth. "This is fucking fantastic. I don't even know what's real and what's false anymore. Great. This is just wonderful. I am just the picture of mental health. I could win awards for being sane right now, really, I could."

"Are you having troubles, coolkid?"

"Fuck off."

"If you are dreaming, allow me to help you wake up."

"What. What are you sayi—"

But Dave couldn't finish his sentence, because Teresa reached out, grabbed his arms and pressed her lips to his.

"It's time to wake up."


	44. Lens 44

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Where was Bro?

It had been hours since he had left the TV running. Was he pulling some sort of stupid ninja shit? No, he had promised he wouldn't do that for a little while. Neither of them was ready for it. They had said they would pretend to be normal—at least for a while. A Strider couldn't stay uncool for long, but they could at least give the irony a bit of a rest. Just for now.

How long had Dave been staring at the ceiling? Fuck. It was a long time. He sat up, rifling his fingers through his hair. He went to the window and looked out at the streets below. Cars were moving by and he could see tiny people squiggling by like ants. He looked up at the sky. It was hot and red and sunny. He quickly abandoned the window and went to the kitchen.

Smuppets were stacked in unusually neat piles on the counter. He opened the fridge. No swords fell out. Instead, he found half a bottle of milk and an old sandwich. Neither of these interested him much. He closed the fridge.

Dave glanced around. Was Bro making another puppet snuff film? Was Dave going to once again be the unwitting deliverer of puppet justice? He didn't see any webcams around. Just smuppets, and those were generally Bro's last choice for camera insertion. They were too squishy.

Dave went back to the bathroom. The shower was empty, of course. He stared at the mirror. Gog, he looked awful. He'd better not do any video chats any time soon. Rose would probably have a gleeful fit of psychotherapy. Hell, she'd probably even visit. He wasn't about to let her in his apartment any time soon.

He looked down at the sink again. Maybe if he washed his face, he'd feel better. No, he had done that before and it hadn't helped. Fuck. Why hadn't he remembered that?

But it was getting hard to remember anything properly anymore. Everything sort of blurred together in a nonlinear clusterfuck of stupidity. Once you change your perception of time, it's changed forever. No, that couldn't be true? Could it? Would Dave really be stuck understanding time as loops upon loops of bad decisions versus good decisions? Alpha timelines versus beta timelines? And what if he was right?

What if this was a beta timeline?

Dave choked and shook his head vigorously, trying to expel the thoughts from his mind. No, no, no. The game was over and time was linear and everything was back to the way it was before. But different.

Normal.

But Dave wasn't normal. He was tired and anxious and worried, worried because something inside him was agreeing with him.

It whispering that he'd never be normal again.


	45. Lens 45

**Obscura ~ Age 17**

Dave drummed his fingers against the amp. He ran through the song in his mind. And again. And again. And—

"Sorry! I need you to move a bit, is that okay?"

He barely spared the girl a glance. "Yeah, sure. Whatever." He stood and wheeled the amp off to the side. "How's that."

"Okay, perfect! Thanks."

"No problem." He promptly sat down again. Did he have all the proper records? Yeah, he did. Shit. What was he getting anxious for? He'd done this a thousand times. Well, not a thousand. Maybe a hundred, though. Either way, it was old news. It wasn't something to get all worked up about like a little kid. This was stupid.

"You nervouss?"

Dave glanced up. "Nice 3D glasses, bro. You a hipster or what."

"I could say the same, Sstarssky." The lanky boy folded his arms, smirking. "You're Sstrider, right?"

"Yeah. Sup."

"You're on before uss, then." He tapped the clipboard in his hand. Dave's eyes flicked to his name on the list, _TG Strider_, right below _Arisen Blind_.

"Oh. That your band."

"Assuming that wass a quesstion, yess, it iss. Well, _our_ band."

"Cool."

"I'm pretty sstoked to hear your beatss, man. You'd better deliver."

"Get the fuck in line," Dave replied. "And I always deliver. I am the king of delivery. Pizza boys look up to me like a fucking _god_. 30 minutes or less, bitch."

"Heh. You're pretty sstrange, you know?"

"Sso are you. What the fuck iss your point."

"Touche."

"Why are you here."

"I'm on after you, fuckass. I jusst ssaid that."

"No shit, douchebag. Why are you talking to me."

"Ssomeone woke up on the wrong sside of the bed today. Whatss wrong, grumpy nubss?"

Dave froze. "What."

"What what?"

"What did you just call me."

"Grumpy nutss. Jeguss, you'd better sshape up or you won't be able to hear those ssick beatss you are sso intent on delivering. That'ss okay, though, more love for the resst of uss then. Heh."

"My hearing is perfect, thanks. I have bat-level audio skills. I can bounce a fucking sound wave off a nickel and make it spin to infinity."

"Leet, bro."

"Oh Gog, you're one of those."

"Sscuse me?"

"Your gamer puns better be good, man. I'll have to revoke your fucking license if they aren't."

"Nah, I'm not one of thosse. I doubt my other half would be sso chill with me writing lame gaming ssongss."

"So don't listen to that flighty broad."

"No, man. Sshe's pretty cool. I don't want to write sshitty ssongss like that, anyway."

Dave shrugged, indifferent. "Whatever makes you happy."

"Yeah." And he smiled.

Dave's eyes travelled to the clock on the back wall. Was it that late already? "Time's up." He stood up, grasping the handle of the cart. "Gotta go strut myself like the god of the turntables that I am." Without a second thought, he began to push it onto the stage. He only had a few minutes to set everything up, but he had it under control. He had done it a hundred times before, after all. In a flash, everything was in place.

The curtain fluttered then opened.

Running his fingers along the grooves of his records, he smiled a little to himself. Time for the turntechGodhead to do what he was best at.

"You ready to make this happen."


	46. Lens 46

**Obscura ~ Age 18**

"I think I'm going crazy."

"You're only figuring out now? I've known for years." Bro shut the door of the fridge and leaned against it, unscrewing his bottle of water.

"What the hell. No. Fuck you. I'm serious."

"So am I. When you were five, you used to do this thing where you would take off your pants and run around shouting, what was it, 'sp—"

"Okay, fine. I won't talk to you, you fucking douchebaggy prick." Dave spun on his heel and started for the living room.

"Wait, wait." Bro reached out and snatched up the collar of his brother's shirt, hauling him back. "Go ahead. I'll listen."

"Shit, man. It was stupid. I'm going."

"Fuck you, no, I said I'm going to listen."

"No, asshole. You fucked it up. Piss off."

"It's too late, bro. You've started this. It's happening right fucking now as I'm speaking. You made this happen."

"I warned you, man. I warned you about your dickery."

"Seriously, fucking tell me or you will just get this sexyfine bottle of ice-cold water all down your back and that won't be pleasant. Not even a little bit."

"Fuck, lay off." Dave swatted at Bro, unable to reach him due to the awkward angle.

"Only if you tell me what's bothering you."

Dave's mouth tightened into a straight line. "I…I think I'm going…crazy."

"What kind of crazy?" Bro released his grip and Dave turned.

"I keep…hearing things. It's been happening for years now, man. At first I thought I was just imagining it, but…"

"You think we're in a doomed timeline, right?" Bro gulped down some water.

Dave froze. "How did you know that."

"Don't give me that look, you said it that time you got really stupidly drunk at that party. It was kind of hard to forget. That was before you started taking your pants off, of course, and running around the apartment."

Dave promptly ignored him. "Well, it's not that I think that. Not all the time. Sometimes, yeah. It's kind of hard not to. You see the signs everywhere if you look, you know."

"So stop looking."

"I can't. That was my job, man. The fucking Knight of Time. Not that I did much good."

"You did fine. We're here now, aren't we?" Bro replied.

"It's just… I keep seeing the trolls everywhere. I keep _hearing_ them."

"Trolls? Yeah, man, you really are out of it. What, are they little and knobbly with huge colourful hair and—"

"Shut up, no. You were already dead before we met them. They're from some shitty planet and they said they made Earth."

"Dude, I think you got trolled."

"Yes, but that's—no, shut up. Fuck. You don't get it. I knew you wouldn't. This is fucking stupid, why did I ever think you'd be helpful." Dave turned to go.

"Stop, stop." Bro sighed and grabbed his arm. "Jegus, you're a whiny little bitch. Finish your fucking story."

"We met a shitload of these aliens, right. They all had these weirdass quirks, I don't know, it made them sort of easy to tell apart I guess. But…I mean…I keep meeting people with the same stupid quirks."

"It's probably just a coincidence."

"No, that's the thing. It made them really stupidly easy to recognize. I'm not kidding, normal people don't really do that kind of shit. And…"

"And what?"

"It's not just now. When I think back, even, in my memories… They're there, too."

"You've finally realized it."

"Realized what."

"You're in the Matrix. You can take either the red pill or the blue—"

"Fuck you. Fuck you. Just _fuck. You._ I wasn't fucking joking, you pricknippled douchebag asshole. Fuck you." And he stormed out.

Once out of sight, however, Bro frowned, worried. Dave didn't need him right now. Not _really_, not in the way he seemed to think. What Dave needed right now was one of the kids. Only then could he compare experiences.

He screwed the cap back on the bottle.

Talking about the game was probably something that would—_could_—never happen properly.

It was just too difficult.


	47. Lens 47

**AN:** Thanks for the edits in the last chapter! And to all the readers, as usual.

And a special thanks to Orange for co-writing with me haha.

**Obscura ~ Age 17**

Alone, the knock was inconspicuous. Dave wondered vaguely if Bro had ordered pizza without telling him again. That asshole. He'd better not have gotten pineapple on it.

He unlocked the door and pulled it open.

WHAM.

Dave fell back against the kitchen floor. His head spun. His cheek throbbed. "What the hell, man."

"I had to do it," panted John. He adjusted his glasses.

"What the hell," Dave said again.

"You were being a total douche, Dave. I had to stop it."

"What the hell are you talking about."

John sighed. "Get up, Dave."

"Why the hell did you punch me. What the fuck, man."

"Tell me what's wrong, Dave!"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Stop lying to me, you asshole!"

"I'm—what the hell are you talking about, Egbert."

John raked his fingers through his hair. "Look, Dave. Please. I know you're going through some rough stuff right now or something, but you really need to talk to someone. It doesn't have to be me, fine, but please. You can't keep it bottled up like this."

"I don't know what you're—"

"Stop it!"

Dave narrowed his eyes and his mouth tightened. He pushed himself up, posture stiff and defensive. "Seriously, Egbert, what the hell."

"Dave, you've been acting completely crazy lately. I don't get why you won't talk to us! I mean, I understand if you don't want to talk through text or Pesterchum or whatever, but… I'm here now. Dave, please, talk to me. You aren't alone."

"Really, Egbert. You want to do this."

"I'll…I'll punch you again!"

"You really want to fight me that badly."

"No! Dave, I don't want to fight you! I just don't know how to make you listen! Just talk to me!"

But Dave couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't handle his friend's sudden assault, the looks of concern he had been getting, the stress of it all.

He snapped. "You want me to talk to you. How about you talk to me."

"What?"

"Tell me about the game, Egbert. Tell me fucking everything you remember about the game."

"I—I don't understand."

"How do you feel right now, Egbert? Do you feel normal? Do you feel the same as you did before the game? Or are you different?"

"I…I don't understand what you mean."

"Like hell you don't. You want me to talk, fine. How about you start."

"W-well… I've been really tired lately… And I've been getting sick a lot more than before. I get really stressed for no reason, and…" John looked away uncomfortably. Dave realized his mistake too late.

"Shit. No. Sorry. Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap, Egbert, I didn't. You don't—you don't have to talk about it. It's okay. I shouldn't have said something like that."

"N-no, you're right. I've been telling you to talk all this time, but I haven't said anything." He shook his head. "We should be able to talk about this, Dave. Um, how about some fresh air?" He offered a hand to Dave, helping him up. They walked silently out the door and up the stairs to the roof. It was an abnormally cloudy day, but it was a welcome change from the usual scorching sun. They sat on the ledge, watching the cars travel down below.

"I'm sorry, Egbert. I shouldn't have attacked you like that."

"I would apologize for punching you but…you totally deserved it."

"Yeah, I'm an asshole."

"No! You're not an asshole, Dave. Look, I…I want you to be able to talk to me. I'm here now. In person."

"I know."

"So, I guess… I don't know. I should talk to you? I get really worried over strange things. But mostly I just feel sort of sick."

"Yeah, I get it. Honest."

"Well, I mean…I shouldn't force you to say anything you aren't comfortable saying to me. I just want you to know that I'm here, Dave. You don't have to take this on alone. You don't have to keep doing this."

"No. Shit. Egbert, you don't get it."

"Get what?"

"Look, man. Even if I wanted to talk to you—shit, I do. But every time I try, I get this pain in my chest. It's like some asshole's cigar smoke is all caught up in my throat and it won't let me say anything. And I'm all, 'No, you fuckass, go smoke that shit somewhere else' but the douchebag doesn't listen and it just burns me from the inside until I'm suffocating." Dave paused. "Shit, sorry, that got out of hand."

"No, Dave, it's okay. I understand."

Dave shook his head. "No. It's just how I am. Even before the game, I couldn't talk about important things. It's not something I can change right away, you know. Even after the game." Dave snorted derisively. "Hell, maybe I'm even worse now."

"It's okay. Even you can't talk right now, I'll just wait. Even if you can never manage it. You did well, man."

"Sorry," was all Dave could reply. He looked down at the cars again. "Fuck. How did we get so broken."

"I don't know. But…at least we're not alone."

"Yeah. Just keep doing your windy thing and I'm sure we'll just keep being broken together."

"Um, Dave?"

"Yeah, man."

"I don't really want to freak you out, but… I'm actually kind of feeling pretty sick right now…"

"Shit. Shit. Fuck. Are you okay. Do you uh, want me to rub your back or something. Shit. What do I do. What do I do. Egbert, what do I do."

"No, it's okay. I just—I just have to relax or something." John stood and Dave quickly got up.

"Do you want to lie down on the couch. Shit. Let's go back inside."

"Yeah." John reached out and took hold of Dave's sleeve, much to the blonde boy's horror. What should he do? He obviously couldn't just brush John off. Not when he was feeling like this.

"Come on," Dave prompted. He quickly led him back to the apartment. "Shit. Do you want medicine or something? I can try to find some if you want."

"No. No. It's okay, I just need to rest a little. Um, could I trouble you for some water maybe?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. No problem. Go lie on the couch or something. I'll be right there. It'll just take a second. I'll be fast as fucking lightning."

"Thanks." John sank down onto the leather cushions of the sofa, sliding his hands between his knees. He hunched his shoulders, head hung low, breathing slowly.

Gritting his teeth, he flashed into the kitchen. For a moment, he was stunned that it actually worked. No, this was no time to admire himself. He grabbed a cup and filled it with water, then flashed back to his friend. He held out the glass tentatively, watching John slowly turn to him. "Shit. I'm sorry, man. I shouldn't have—I shouldn't have said that. It's my fault, Egbert, I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Dave, and if you start blaming yourself I will punch you. It will be sweaty and gross, I promise." John hesitated. "Just…sit with me?"

"No, don't punch me again," Dave said quickly. "And shit man, I can't help it. I said something stupid and made you think of it like the asshole I am. But yeah, man, I'll sit with you." His stomach clenched, but he lowered himself beside his friend on the couch. If it was for John, he could handle it. "Breathe easy, Egbert. Your big bro is here."

"It's not your fault, Dave. Please. You didn't do anything wrong," John begged. "This just happens to me a lot now. It's my fault. Just give me a bit."

"Egbert, you know this isn't your fault either, right. It really fucking isn't. I can't stress that enough. If I drew a Venn diagram of fault and you, the dot marking you would be halfway across the world from the goddamn sheet of paper." He touched his shades briefly. "And yeah, it's okay, man. Just close your eyes and breathe or something."

"Sometimes I just forget is all. Sorry. I'll just rest a bit. Here, c'mon, lemme borrow your shoulder."

"Uh. Uh okay. If it'll help, sure." He awkwardly reached over and pulled John into a one armed hug. John leaned against Dave's shoulder and Dave just patted him on the back uncomfortably. "Just breathe, man. Don't think about it anymore. You're fine. You're safe here. Just, uh, think about Nic Cage or something. Maybe that'll help."

"Heh, sorry, Dave. I'll just think about all the awesome movies we'll watch once I stop feeling like I'll die again. You're the best big brother."

"Shit, don't feel like dying, Egbert. I need you alive. Just relax okay. Don't worry about anything. You're safe. I'll protect you, so just chill now."

"It'll be fine, Dave. It'll pass. I'm not going anywhere so don't worry. You don't have to protect me. I'm okay with just chilling."

"Shit, I just want you to feel okay again. I know it's hard, but I'm here. So just, uh, lean on me. I'm not going anywhere, either."

"Sure thing, Dave. You won't be able to escape now! Hehe."

"Nah, man. I won't escape. If it's for my lil bro, I can take on anything. Heh."

"Thanks, Dave! We have come full circle—I came here to look after you and you're looking after me."

"Haha, nah. What's a big bro for. But I appreciate it all the same. You're a good kid, Egbert." In a brief moment of channelling Bro, Dave ruffled John's hair.

"So are you, Dave. Don't sell yourself short."

"Nah, man. I'm fucking _awesome_."

"I'm feeling a bit better. Thanks, Dave."

"Good. I'm glad, man. But if you're lying to me, you don't have to, okay. I can wait. I know it takes a while, so just take it at your own pace."

"I…thanks, Dave. I am really feeling a bit better though!"

"You sure. If I find out you're lying, it'll be my turn to punch you."

"Geeez I'm not lying, Dave. I just feel a bit shaky. Otherwise, I'm fine."

"You look pretty pale. Have you eaten today, man."

"Yeah. I had breakfast."

"It's kind of late. Maybe you should eat something else now. Don't want you fainting on my watch."

"Yeah, I guess. Sure, I'll eat…"

"I think there's a burrito under the swords somewhere. Is that okay or do you want me to look for something else."

"No, that's alright!"

"Okay, man. I'll get that. You want milk to wash it down or what."

"Milk sounds awesome. Thanks, man."

Dave went back to the kitchen, and dug through some swords before finding the box of food. He slapped it in the microwave as he poured out a cup of milk. The thing felt like it took forever, but he quickly returned with the food when the microwaved beeped.

"Alright. Hope this helps a little more."

John took the food, and ate for a bit in silence.

"You've been a big help, Dave. I'm feeling okay now."

"Good. Make sure you eat, okay, man. You won't grow up all strong like your big bro if you don't."

John nodded. "Haha, I will eat. Don't worry. I like food! The burrito was good."

"Good. You look a bit better now, anyway."

"Yeah, I feel alright, too. How are you?"

Dave shrugged a bit. "I'm okay, man. Worrying about you kind of snapped me out of it."

"Yeah. Sorry, I get too stressed sometimes." He placed his dishes on the table nearby, looking a bit grim.

"No. Shit. Egbert, it's not your fault. I understand, man. Seriously, I do."

"Yeah? You get sick too or something else?"

Dave thought back to all the panic attacks he had been having over the years. The night terrors. How he always felt hot. How he couldn't stand to look at clocks anymore. How he would just shut down whenever he so much as thought about the game for more than a minute. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Well, hey, Dave. You don't have to fret! Everything will be fine. I'm looking out for you."

"Heh. Yeah, you've got my back. We'll fight this together like real bros."

"Exactly! Hey, you don't mind I'm sleeping over officially now, right?"

"Well, yeah. I'm not going to just toss your ass back on the bus. You're stuck chilling here Strider Style, man." Strider Style consisted mostly of watching shitty anime and drinking Faygo until one or both participants passed out, but Dave wasn't sure he wanted to actually say it out loud. It was infinitely cooler when experienced. Words alone could not express the coolness of the exercise.

"I wasn't reeeallly worried."

Dave ignored his reply. "Besides, man. You came all the way here. Can't go locking out my lil bro can I."

"I told you, dave. I'd come here for any reason! Even if it's because I think you need to be punched."

"So did you bus here or did you just tell your dad that a bitch needed to get his face tenderized by means of your manly fucking fists or what."

"Haha, I told him I needed to go see you and he dropped me off at the bus before work."

"Oh, okay. Glad you got here safely then."

"Of course I did!"

"I dunno. I would have worried about you taking the bus." Dave didn't want to say he thought John looked like a prime target for a big-city mugging.

"It's no biggie! Just a bus ride."

"Okay, good. So, uh, do you want to watch a movie or what."

"I dunno. I'm okay with anything."

"You're the movie guy, Egbert. You pick it."

"But it's your house. We can watch something you like."

"Doesn't matter. You do movies, I do music. That's the rule, man."

"What! That's not true! I play piano and that's music. So you can pick a movie."

"Dammit, Egbert. I don't watch movies. I don't know what's good."

"It doesn't have to be good!" John protested.

But Dave saw the look on John's face and something in his mind clicked into place. "Oh. Shit. Okay, I get it. Here. Let's just watch some shitty cartoons." So he slapped a random DVD into the player and flipped the TV on.

"Thanks, Dave."

"Anything for my lil bro."


	48. Lens 48

**Obscura ~ Age 15**

"Shit, Rose, seriously. Stop that. I'm going to leave if you keep spouting idiot theory like that, brother or not."

Rose pursed her lips. "You are very touchy on the subject. Perhaps it is a defence mechanism you have built for yourself over the years?"

"Jegus. Rose. No. Stop it."

"I only stated that your comics are riddled with homosexual overtones. Why do you find that insulting?"

"I don't find it—fuck. I'm not doing this. I refuse to do this."

"Come on, Strider. We must. We must make this happen."

"No. I warned you about the psychoanalysis, man. I warned you about it."

"All joking aside, you must understand that your feelings are perfectly natural. Love is love, regardless of status, gender or—"

"For fuck's sake, I'm leaving." Dave stood, spun on his heel and started for the door.

"Wait. I'll stop."

"You'd fucking better this time."

"I don't see how you are insulted by my mere speculation. Perhaps you haven't realized it yourself?"

"Rose, no. Stop it. You know full well it's fucking frustrating having you toss all these accusations at me."

"Like I said, it was mere speculation. I thought I would point it out as you are obviously oblivious to it, yourself."

"No. Just. No. Okay. Jegus. I like girls. Stop trying to put me in your shitty fanfictions."

"Why would I write about you? You are no wizard." But the corners of her mouth twitched.

"Yeah, I'm just a fucking Knight of Time or whatever. Fuck. Rose, I'm all for your weird accepting shit but seriously. Stop forcing it on me. I am not your target audience."

"If you say so, Strider."

"I do fucking say so."

"Well, I suppose there were also signs to the contrary, what with your obvious seduction attempts with Jade."

"What."

"I suppose I understand. If you are fooling yourself about your love of John, his female sibling is the logical next step."

"I—fuck, Rose, you're doing it again. I'm not in love with Egbert, that was a fucking joke. You know, as in funny because it's _not fucking true_. He's my lil bro. And I don't like Jade because she's like a girl Egbert, that's just stupid and kind of insulting to both of them."

"So you don't deny you are in love with Jade."

"I—shit. Was this all a set up. Was this seriously all a fucking set-up. You are a horrible, horrible person."

Rose's lips twitched again. She smoothly suppressed her smile. "Oh dear. Have I been found out?"

"You're fucking insufferable. Why the hell did I think it was a good idea coming here. I'm fucking leaving." For the umpteenth time that day, Dave turned to leave.

"No. Wait. Stop," Rose said in bored monotone.

"Fuck you. How did I ever get such a manipulative bitch for a sister."

Rose paused. "I believe that went a little too far, Strider."

"Yeah, well, you fucking deserved it."

"Is it my fault that you're so guarded I have to trick information out of you?"

"You're so gogdamn nosy. Do me a favour and keep that snuffling snout out of my fucking business, okay."

"Strider, you have to remember that Jade is my friend, too."

"Yeah, so."

"You are quite the fool, aren't you? Do you really not see the implications?"

"What, so you're in love with her."

"No," Rose said simply. "I just mean that I can help you. If you let me, that is."

"Help me _what_, exactly."

She sighed. "Strider, I can give you a few tips."

"No. I don't need your psychobabble bullshit. I am one smooth player."

"Dubious as that statement may be, I will not dispute it for sake of time. Strider, Jade does not require a 'player' right now."

"Oh yeah," Dave asked, snorting.

"Yes. She requires a _friend_."


	49. Lens 49

**Obscura ~ Age 15**

"Dave!"

"Whozzis."

"Dave, it's me!"

Dave ran his fingers through his hair, squinting at the clock. "Jegus, Jade. Do you know what time it is."

A pause on the other end of the line. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Dave! I'll go now! B—"

"Fuck. No. Don't hang up." Dave stifled a yawn, pushing himself up. "You called me for a reason, right."

"Why would I need a reason to call my super cool friend?"

"I don't know, but generally people have reasons when they call their super cool friends at _five a.m._"

"I'm really sorry, Dave. I can totally hang up and call back!"

"No, whatever. Just tell me what you want to tell me."

"There isn't anything I want to tell you!"

"Then why did you call."

"Because…"

Dave stared at his cell. Shit. Did she hang up? "Jade. You there."

"Yes! Sorry!"

"Because what."

"Because I…"

"Spit it out."

"I couldn't sleep!"

Dave took a minute to blearily count out the hours in his head. "Isn't it only like, eleven there."

"Hm? Yes, it is."

"Shouldn't you wait until it's like…late…to make that declaration."

"No…"

"Shit. Jade. Are you still there. Did you hang up. Did you have one of those narcoleptic fits or some shit. Fuck."

"No, Dave, I'm here."

"Jegus. You could have told me instead of letting me babble on like a raging douchebag."

"Sorry, Dave."

He frowned. "Look. Something's wrong, isn't it."

"No! Not at all!"

"You're lying."

"I am not!"

"Jegus, Jade, you're a shitty liar. I don't even have to be in the same fucking room to know the difference. Just tell me."

"I…I did."

"What."

"I did tell you."

"No you di—wait, the trouble sleeping. Is that it."

"Yes."

He rubbed his eyes beneath the shades. "How long."

"L-long."

Shit. "Is it nightmares."

"Sometimes."

"Only sometimes."

"I can't sleep, Dave. I'm so tired. I can never sleep, but then when I do, when I just get so tired that I pass out—I have these nightmares…"

"Shit. Don't cry, Jade."

"I'm not crying!"

Dave squinted at the phone. She obviously was. He could hear her stifling sniffs and sobs and all sorts of little squeaks. "Okay. Fine. You aren't crying."

"I told you so!" she sobbed.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure, sure."

"I'm sorry, Dave. I shouldn't have called."

"What."

"I woke you up."

"No, it's fine. You're nowhere near as bad as me, man."

"What do you mean?"

He snorted. "I do all sorts of stupid shit to Egbert. I'm surprised he doesn't hate me already."

"Of course he doesn't hate you! You're amazing!"

"Yeah, I'm the fucking king of awesome. Nah, man, I do all sorts of things to piss him off, like sending texts in the middle of the night or filling his offline Pesterchum messages with cleverly disguised horse porn… I once used a fax machine at school to call his cell. It wouldn't stop making these horrible screeching noises, it was awesome."

"Dave, that's not nice!"

"Nah, it's cool. It's not like he doesn't get his revenge."

"What does he do?"

"Oh, gog. He's even better at that shit than I am, and I've had Bro to practice on. He's a master prankster, that wasn't even a fucking joke. You know that prank where you order a bunch of pizzas to go to one kid's house. Well, he did something even better. He called up pretty much every fast food chain that offered delivery in the city and got them to deliver _one_ thing. Every fucking one of them."

"That's horrible! It must have cost a fortune!"

Dave chuckled. "No, Egbert's not that cruel. He made sure it was cheap food, at least. We had restaurants delivering fucking bottles of soda, it was the weirdest shit. I didn't even think they did that. They were pretty pissed."

Jade giggled. "You guys!"

"Yeah, it gets pretty strange."

"I miss hanging out with you all! You're all so funny."

"Yeah, I-we miss you. You're pretty fucking far away. We need you here to mediate. Rose is absolute shit at that job, she just subtly insults us and thinks we don't notice. You should just move to America."

"Yeah, it totally sucks being way out here. But it's okay! I'm working on something with Bec!"

"Jegus. That devilbeast is still alive."

"Of course! Dave, I'm not _you_! Bec is my friend!"

"Uh huh." Dave stretched his back out. Fuck, he felt stiff. "Why don't you just get Bec to sleep with you. I bet a big furry asshole like him would make you feel all safe and fucking fuzzy."

"I've tried that. I think it mostly just upset him."

"Fuck him, the snooty little dogmonster. He thinks he's better than you."

"No! He's just worried. I don't want to worry him. I don't even know why I called. I'm sorry, Dave."

"Fuck. Stop apologizing."

"Sorry…"

"Look, Jade. Just worry me all you want, okay. I can fucking handle it. I'm not some douchey devilbeast, I'm your friend."

"Bec's my friend, too, Dave!"

"You're missing the point."

"I know. Thanks, Dave. You're a really swell guy!"

"Fucking yes I am."

"But I should go now. I think Grandpa will get mad if I'm on the phone too late. Have good dreams, Dave! Really fun ones!"

"Yeah. You too. Get some sleep."

"I'll try! Good night!"

"Night."

Dave flicked his cell closed at the dial tone. He collapsed back against the pillows. Fuck. His stomach knotted uncomfortably. So Jade had been having trouble, too. Of course she was. They all were.

He just hoped insomnia was the worst of her problems, for her sake.


	50. Lens 50

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Dave toyed with the records on his turntables half-heartedly. Scratch, scratch, scratch. He stood up abruptly. It just wasn't working. Every time his fingers brushed the vinyl, he thought of his timetables. He thought about how he used them. It was just too similar.

Dave went back out into the living room and sat on the couch. So the game had even ruined music for him. Fucking fantastic. He took a deep breath and flopped back against the leather of the couch. He stared at the ceiling. Shit.

By this time, he was starting to worry. Where the fuck was Bro? What was taking him so long?

The hollow feeling in his chest was almost painful. Fuck. What was that asshole doing? Dave went back to his room and picked up his cell phone. He flicked it open. No new messages. Fuck.

He tapped out Bro's number on the keys, then jabbed the call button.

Dave only let it reach the second ring before he snapped the cell shut and chucked it back on the bed. Fuck. He was being stupid. Bro hadn't been gone _that_ long. Hell, before the game, he was known to disappear for a couple of days at a time. He would always return safe and smiling with some new piece of equipment to show Dave. Why was now any different?

Dave threw himself on the bed. But it was different. He knew it was different. Did Bro not?

Maybe Bro just didn't feel the same way. Maybe Bro was too cool to let this shit bother him. Maybe he just didn't care.

The cell phone vibrated beside him. Shit.

Dave flicked it back open. "What."

"What do you mean, 'what'? You fucking called me."

"No I didn't."

"Don't lie, jerkass. You rung twice and hung up."

"No I didn't."

"You're a shitty liar, Dave, you know that? I have caller ID, dumpass."

Dave's mouth tightened. "Where are you."

"I went out to buy some food, idiot. Or do you want to live off shitty ramen noodles for another month? Because we could totally do that again. Do you remember that? Do you remember how fun that was?"

"Fuck. No. I don't want that."

"Good. So I'll buy some fucking actual food, then."

"What's taking you so long."

"Jegus, I had other stuff to do. I'm not a little brat like you, I actually have shit I need to get done."

Dave rolled onto his side, pulling his legs to his chest. "Come home soon."

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you sound like that?" A pause. "David, are you okay?"

"I'm fucking fantastic. I am the king of cool."

"I'm coming home right now."

"No, get the fucking food. I don't want to live off shitty noodles again. That was fucking hell. Are you happy. You have totally warped my image of hell. Instead of fire and brimstone, it is just fucking ramen noodles everywhere and I have to eat them all. That is my hell."

"Fine, I'll just pay for this shit and come straight home. Okay?"

"No. Shit. Do whatever you want, I don't fucking care." Without letting Bro reply, Dave snapped the phone shut. This time he threw it farther across the bed, so that it landed in the farthest corner. He curled up. Shit. Shit. Shit.

This was so uncool.


	51. Lens 51

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

Dave stood at the door. His mind was exhausted, but his body seemed to have other plans, vibrating like a coked up squirrel. His limbs felt like jelly, like he was still bobbing up and down, riding in that sketchy little plane that had carried him here. It was so shitty it had been held together with duct tape—literally, in some places. Fuck. He hoped he would never have to do that again. Then again, if he ever wanted to get home, he would probably have to.

He put his hand on the doorknob.

_Grrrrrrrrr…_

Dave glanced over his shoulder. "Fucking devilbeast. So we meet again."

Becqueral stalked over to him, white fur bristling.

"It's me. Dave. You remember me, don't you." He considered holding a hand out for the dog creature to sniff but decided that was too risky. Bec would probably bite it off. "It's just me. I've come to visit Jade."

Bec kept growling, but it was less pronounced now.

"Good devilbeast," Dave said. "Now, can I go see Jade."

_Grrrrrr_.

"We're worried, man. Like really worried. She's—she's alive, right. She didn't die or anything, did she."

Bec snorted and shook his head.

"Well, I want to go see her."

The devilbeast shouldered Dave roughly aside and prodded the door with his nose. Dave heard a click.

"Seriously. You can seriously do that. That is fucking creepy. I hope you don't watch her sleep, you sick fuck of a dog."

Bec growled and snapped his jaws, insulted.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Thanks, bro." He patted the dog on the head, quickly lifting his hand before Bec could sink his teeth into flesh.

Dave opened the door and pushed inside. It was dark here, with all sorts of odd paraphernalia lying around, strewn haphazardly across the floor. Bec trotted in after him, then onto a transporter pad. He vanished.

"Is that what I'm supposed to do, then." Dave followed suit.

He quickly learned that transporters were not his preferred method of travel. He stumbled off the platform, clutching his stomach. The world was spinning. Puking would not be a great way to start out this visit. Definitely not cool.

After a few minutes, the whirling nausea subsided and he straightened up. Bec was pawing at a door. Dave took this to mean that Jade was inside.

"Jade. It's me, Dave." He rapped on the door with his knuckles. No answer. "Jade." Still no answer. "I'm coming in, okay." He turned the handle and pushed it open.

It took him a moment to take in all the destruction. Posters had been torn from walls, crushed plush dolls spread across the floor. Her wardrobe was turned on its side. It took another moment to actually locate his friend, swaddled in a torn Squiddles bedsheet.

"Jade."

She didn't look up.

"Jade, it's me." He walked over and knelt beside her.

Slowly, she turned her thin, tear-stained face up to him. "Dave…"

"Yeah," he said, at a loss. "It's me."

"Dave!" She discarded the sheet and threw her arms around him. "Dave…"

"What the hell happened here," he said, adjusting his shades. "I thought you liked all this shit."

"I'm sorry," she sobbed into his chest. "I don't know why I did it. I'm just—I was so tired. I suddenly couldn't stand to look at any of it anymore. I just…I was so tired."

"It's okay. I understand." He patted her on the head. He didn't know what else to say. All he could do was let her blubber all over his shirt. Shit. This was Egbert all over again.

"I'm sorry, Dave. I know you don't like this. But…please…just for a while, let me hug you, okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Whatever." Awkwardly, he circled his arms around her. "Jegus. You look horrible."

"Gee! Thanks, Dave! That's really nice of you!"

"No. Shit. Not like that. Don't be stupid, you know I didn't mean it like that. But seriously, man, you look fucking exhausted and pale and sick."

"Of course I do! I haven't slept in who-knows-how-long! I'm going crazy!" Her grip tightened on his shirt.

"No, you aren't." He leaned back against the bedframe and stared at the ceiling. "Look, I'm here now. Just close your eyes and sleep, okay."

"It's not that easy!"

"I know. But try. For me." He shifted under her. "I'll make sure nothing happens. You're safe, okay."  
>Jade tried to protest, but she was too tired. She collapsed against him. "This is really uncomfortable."<p>

"You don't have a fucking board trying to probe its way into your ass. I think you have the better end of this deal. It is about to get all Area 51 up in here."

Suddenly, she giggled. "Thank you, Dave."

"Hey, man. A cool guy can't stand by and watch his friends flip the fuck out, can he."

"No. I guess not." She curled up. "I just can't believe you came all the way here. You must be really tired."

"Yeah, well, everything is relative." He snorted.

"Dave…"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for holding me. I think I really needed this. I live so far away from all of you, and there's really no one but Bec here, I just…"

"I know." He smirked. "But in the immortal words of our idiot Egbert, 'you aren't alone.' Not even if you think you are."

"I know."

"So don't ever pull that stunt again, okay. We were all freaking out. We did some pretty stupid shit."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Egbert kept trying to do his windy thing, which totally didn't work. Obviously. But he tried anyway. Rose tried to find you with that stupid white seer ball, but that didn't work, either."

Jade closed her eyes. "What about you?"

Dave looked away uncomfortably, pulling his hands from her shoulders. "I couldn't do anything."

"No?"

"My thing was time, remember. Without the timetables, I'm pretty fucking useless."

"I don't think you're useless, Dave."

He braced his feet against the floor and pushed himself into a better sitting position. Now the board wasn't digging into his ass, at least. "Anyway, we pooled our funds and I flew out here, as I'm sure you've guessed by now."

"I'm glad you came."

"Well, we put it to a vote and the two bastards seemed to think I would be the best one for the job."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess because I already have a passport. Hell if I know their convoluted thought process."

"I think I get it."

"What. Do you. Could you maybe fucking explain it to me, then."

"Nope!"

"Awesome. Fucking fantastic." When there was no reply, he looked down. Her eyes were closed, her chest rose and fell rhythmically. Slowly. Finally, she was asleep. He watched her for a little while, inspecting the damage. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her face was nearly paper white. She looked like a ghost from a shitty horror movie. Her glasses were slipping down her face, showing the little indent across the bridge of her nose.

"Only I'm allowed to sleep with glasses," he muttered, carefully pulling them off her face. She didn't wake. For now, she was dead to the world.

Dave looked back around the room. He couldn't imagine her tearing the posters down. He couldn't imagine her throwing such a fit. Hell, she even knocked down the fucking wardrobe. She was way too small to be able to do something like that!

But he supposed they were all a little crazy now. Tomorrow, he'd help her clean up. It would give them something to do. It would give him time to get ready for all the feelings and emotions she was sure to spout at him. He wasn't good with feelings. Hell, he wasn't even good with touching, but he supposed it was okay if she was the one doing the hugging. It wasn't as uncomfortable as he had thought it would be.

Well. That wasn't true. The bed frame was making his back hurt. He tried to flex the offending muscles, but it was difficult with Jade snoring away on his chest. It was best to just grin and bear it. An exercise in futility, indeed.

The plane ride had taken a lot out of him. The jittery rodent feeling was gone and now his mind just felt fuzzy. Maybe he was just in shock. He had never expected to come across such a bizarre scene. Jade was too innocent for the game's bullshit. He was wrong.

He shifted a little, then closed his eyes. A few minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt. He needed his wits about him if Bec had anything to do with this visit. He needed to be prepared…

And then there was nothing.


	52. Lens 52

**Obscura ~ Age -2**

"Hey, Shades. Sup, bro?"

"Check it out man. I have perfected the future of DJing." Strider spun his chair about to face his friend. He grinned.

His friend seemed wholly unimpressed. "Dude, you always say that. You're never going to make it happen."

"No, man. I'm making this happen. Not even. It's _already_ happened. You and me, we're talking right now, but it's already fucking been _done_."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Shades." His friend laughed, waving his hand dismissively. "I've got class now, though."

"Fuck the bell. Fuck class. This is _history in the making_."

"Man, you don't know when to quit, do you? You music specialists are in a world of your fucking own." The boy turned to leave. Strider grinned.

In an instant, he was blocking the way, leaning casually on the doorframe. "Oh really?"

"Shitballs, man, what the fuck did you just do?"

"The future. I just did _the future._"

"Jesus, man, warn me next time!"

"And miss this splendid display of sordid jealousy all up in your face?"

"I am not jealous, you douchebag, I'm just having a fucking heart attack." The friend tried to push Strider aside, but he merely crossed his arms, unperturbed. "Fuck, man, let me go to class."

"To see a girl?"

"Fuck you, man."

"I dunno, bro. How gorgeous is the chick in question?"

"If you touch her, I swear to god, I will fucking _end_ you!"

Strider stepped aside, chuckling. "Spoken like a true man! Alright, man, go pierce that heaven." He paused. "And by that I mean sex, if you didn't—"

"Fuck you!"

He laughed, watching his friend dash to class. He wouldn't stay mad for long. No one ever did. He shut the door, effectively soundproofing the room.

Strider flashed back to his turntables, surveying them with a deep and profound appreciation. Yes, he had finally mastered the flashstep. It had been a long and arduous journey, but it was over.

He was now the master of music.


	53. Lens 53

**Obscura ~ Age 17**

"Shit, Egbert. You don't have to make fucking dinner. We could just order some shitty takeout or something. We don't even have fucking ingredients."

"Nonsense! I invited myself over, I can make you guys something. Besides, when was the last time you ate something delicious?" John smiled.

"Jegus, man, at least take off the fucking apron. I don't even know where you found that shit." Dave grimaced.

"Isn't it obvious? That's my apron, douchewad. Don't you remember it from back when I worked like eight different jobs?"

Dave flinched. "Fucking hell, man, don't just sneak up behind me like that."

"Don't be so easy to scare," Bro replied, opening the fridge, surveying the damage. Well, at least someone had cleared the swords out before letting Egbert run wild with the kitchen.

"Besides, what if I spill some sauce, Dave! Just because you're uncomfortable with me in an apron doesn't mean I am! Gosh, it's like you never cook." John stirred the bubbling pot placidly. He glanced at Bro. "So you used to be a waiter? That's a bit different than a DJ."

"Yeah, man. It was pretty dull, but I had to do _something_ while I waited for someone to discover my unparalleled musical prowess, right?" Bro selected a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap and gulped half of it down in one go.

"Well, I guess you gotta start somewhere!" John agreed. "Do you like spicy food? I found a few kinds behind a blender of smuppets that I could add."

"Fucking yes I do. Finally, someone else who appreciates food with flavour." Bro grinned approvingly.

"Fuck you," said Dave. "Just fuck you. You over season _everything_. You put chilli powder in a fucking batch of cupcakes once."

"That sounds, uh, interesting. Don't worry, Dave, I won't make it too spicy then. You do have plates somewhere, right?"

"What are plates?" said Bro.

"Don't listen to that asshole. I think we have some in the living room, let me go find them."

"Alright. Dinner's almost ready! I hope you guys like it." John switched off the burner and moved the pot to a different grate.

"Aren't you just the perfect little waifu? Dave, you'd better marry this guy so that we can have real food every day," Bro called.

"What," Dave said. "I can't hear you, dumpass." He appeared minutes later, carrying a dusty stack of plates. "Why the fuck did you put these under the DVD player that doesn't even make fucking sense."

"Haha, wow, well, I need a big strong husband to feed of course. Dave, can you set…something? We can sit and eat together! It'll be awesome." John stirred the contents of the pot one last time, then stood back, impressed at his handiwork.

"Wait, wait, back the fuck up there, Egbert. What the hell are you talking about."

"Huh? I want you to set the table or something so I can feed you."

"Are we just going to gloss over the whole you coming out of the closet thing, then. Okay, sure."

"Dave, just because someone cooks doesn't make them gay! I am horrified you'd suggest that!" John said, genuinely upset.

"Did you miss the part where you said, 'husband.' Was that just a Freudian slip or is all this actual real human food smell fucking with my brain."

"Dave, that was a well timed joke I was having with your brother. Geeeeeez. Man, it must have been ages since you last ate well!"

"I should've known it was that fucker's fault, he always does shit like that. Don't listen to him, Egbert."

"On the contrary, I think you should stop listening to the much less cool mini-me and you can tell me how you are a better kid than this douchebag in every possible sense." Bro reached over and ruffled Dave's hair. Dave swatted him away, irritated.

"Haha, it will have to wait for another day. I need to keep an eye on Dave this visit."

"Good. Maybe you can make him less of a whiny little bitch. There's a table in the living room, by the way."

"Well, I'm not a miracle worker, but I do hope to lower his douche with my visit! C'mon, we'll eat together." John served out the pasta and they retreated into the living room.

"A coffee table is, by name itself, a table. I hope this will suffice."

"Well, so long as we can eat off of it. Do you two eat meals together a lot?"

"No," the brothers said in unison. They set their plates on the table and Bro gallantly sat on the floor.

"Oh. Well, I guess I'm not that surprised," John replied.

"Don't give us that look, Egbert," Dave said.

"Yeah, you knew what you were getting into when you decided to marry this asshole." Bro twirled his fork and shovelled pasta into his mouth. "This is pretty good."

"Thanks! And I guess I did. I'm just used to eating with Dad if he's home, I guess!"

Dave shifted uncomfortably. His chest was already starting to feel tight. "Yeah, well, different families, different habits." Bro raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"Yeah, I know! I guess I will have to adapt to Strider style." He chuckled.

"Uh, thanks for making dinner, Egbert."

"Hey, no problem, Dave. What are friends for? Now clear your plate or no dessert!"

"What the fuck."

"Come on! I'm just teasing, Dave."

"Learn to differentiate, fuckass," Bro said with a grin. "Damn, this is really good. I had forgotten what real food tasted like. Can we just rent you out from your Dad? Do you think he'd be cool with that?"

"No, I don't think he'd be cool with it—I cook for him now, haha! I can cook for you whenever I come by, though."

Bro shrugged. "I'll take what I can get."

"Well, I can make some extra food before I leave and you can keep it in the fridge! So long as Dave doesn't mind. I did visit to see him."

"Nah, man, I won't steal up all your precious minutes. You need those to spend with your husband."

"Gogdammit, Bro, you fucking asshole…"

"Learn to take a joke, dipshit. Thanks for the food." He stood and picked up his empty plate. Before leaving for the kitchen, he paused to ruffle John's hair. "You're a good kid."

"Oh, uh…heh. Your bro is pretty awesome, Dave. Of course he has nothing on mine."

"Yeah he's fucking awesome. Just the best asshole."

"You're just upset we gang up on you."

"Do you. I didn't even notice."

"Of course you didn't, we weren't doing it ironically."

But Dave had had enough. "Fuck it, Egbert, I'm going to go shower. Entertain yourself for a while or something."

John blinked. "Huh? Okay, Dave. See you, then."

x.x.x

Dave stepped out of the bathroom, blond hair plastered to his face and dripping across the floor. He had wrapped the towel tight around his waist and held it with one hand. Shit, the water was fogging up his shades. He blindly felt around the apartment with his free hand. There was the wall. Alright. He could just follow that to his room.

Halfway through the living room, he paused. The fog had begun to fade and he was able to see again. "Egbert, what the shit are you doing."

John looked up from the colourful pile of smuppets he had collected. "Huh? Entertaining myself. You have a lot of these."

"Fuck, don't touch those, you don't know where they've been. Hell, _I_ don't even know where they've been."

"I'm pretty sure they've been in your house. But yeah. I'll stop."

"Dude, no, you know what Bro does. Trust me, this is the safest option."

"Well okay then. What do you wanna do?"

"I dunno. So, uh. Hey. How are you uh, feeling."

"Oh. You know. Just feelin. How are you?"

"Fucking fantastic. Wait here. Much as I'm sure you'd love to just ogle my naked body a little longer, I should go put some fucking clothes on."

"Just get into some PJs man. No big deal."

"Because I totally fucking have those yes." Dave slipped through the door to his room and shut it tight.

"You don't have PJs?" John called from the other side of the door.

"No, I just wear a t-shirt and shorts."

"That counts!"

"Does it. That's what I was going to anyway."

"Shush, Dave. If you sleep in them, they are pajamas!"

"If you say so. Do you need a shirt or something, Egbert. It doesn't look like you brought anything."

"Nope, I didn't! I didn't really have time to! I'd love to borrow a shirt."

"Here, this might fit enough." Dave roughly pushed the shirts in his drawer apart and pulled one out. He opened the door and tossed it to John.

"It doesn't really matter, I'm just going to sleep in it. Gimmie a second lemme just change."

"Yeah, sure." Dave sidled past him and they traded rooms.

"See, it fits fine! Hey, am I ironic now?"

"So fucking ironic, you could write your own shitty webcomic."

"I will name it 'Sweet Jeff and Hella Bro'."

"it will have thousands of followers. You can even sell possibly glow in the dark shirts based off of shitty panels you carelessly spam fill buckets and paste on."

"I totally could! But naw, that's your thing. I'll stick to pranks and I guess cooking."

"Makes sense." Dave leaned against the couch, waiting.

"So then! What do you wanna do?"

"I don't know man. I didn't exactly have anything planned when I opened the door and you punched me in the face."

John opened the door sheepishly. "Oh…yeah. You kind of deserved it, though. Are you doing okay?"

Dave shrugged, running his hand briefly across his face. "Yeah. It'll probably bruise by tomorrow but whatever."

"Sorry…do you want some ice? I can get you some. I just didn't know how to get you to smarten up."

Dave's mouth tightened into a line and he looked away. "It wouldn't do any good now, anyway, right." He sighed, rubbing his eyes beneath his shades. "Look, man…I get it, okay. Fuck."

"Sorry, right, you don't wanna talk about it. I'm just used to talking to Rose and Jade, I guess, and helping them."

"Hey, uh." Dave's voice caught in his throat but he managed to force out the words. "Are they okay?"

"Well. They're okay. I guess. Rose is really fine now…Jade sometimes gets me worried. But I think so long as I can talk to them, I'm doing something small to help…"

Shit. Dave grit his teeth and he clutched the edge of the couch tightly behind him. Something small to help. That wasn't small, that was big. And even if it wasn't, at least it was fucking _something_. Dave couldn't do that. He couldn't do _anything._ "Hey, Egbert…"

"Yeah, Dave?"

It took a while, but he managed to speak. "How do you, uh… How do you do it. How can you be like this all the time." He could feel his shoulders starting to shake so he braced himself against the back of the couch. Shit. _Don't be such a pussy,_ he told himself. _Get a fucking grip._

"I just…it's just how I am. Someone's gotta be there for everyone. I'm your friend. I guess…I don't understand, really. Heh."

"Shit, Egbert, I… Just shit. I don't understand, either." His knees shook and he sank to a crouching position on the floor. "Fuck."

"Dave? Shit, Dave, shit. I'm sorry. I should have been more careful." John knelt down beside him. "Dave, I'm sorry. C'mere. It's okay." He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around the blonde. "Dave, you're not me."

Dave buried his face in his arms. "Egbert, stop it. I can't…" But the tightness of his throat won out this time and he couldn't speak. His chest throbbed painfully. The smoke was back, it was suffocating him from the inside out, hot and toxic. All he could do was try to breathe.

"Dave, it's alright. I'm here." John paused for a moment. He wasn't really used to seeing Dave like this, but it didn't matter. He patted Dave's back soothingly, stroked the wet locks of hair from his face. "It's okay, Dave. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it is."

"Fuck, Egbert. You don't—You aren't—" Dave choked.

"No, I don't understand. I'm not you. I'm not in your position. That doesn't mean I can't be here for you. It's alright. You don't have to be all tough, Dave. I won't tell."

Dave uncurled himself and slid down to sit against side of the couch. He tilted his head up at the ceiling and just breathed for a few minutes. "Freaking out like this is so stupid. Fuck. What am I doing."

"Being human. Weird, huh?" John patted his friend's head. "Don't worry."

Dave snorted humourlessly. "It's always you that sees me like this. Fuck. It's so uncool, being such a fucking loser in front of my lil bro."

"I don't think it's uncool, Dave. I'm kind of glad you feel like you can open up to me, even a little. That's why I'm here. And I know you don't wanna talk about this probably, so you don't have to say anything."

"Fuck, Egbert. Why are you able to say all these things. How the hell did you learn to do that. I…"

"I just want to look after you guys. I just want you all to be yourselves. It's stupid and cheesy, I know. I think I learned because…I just want to be there. I wanna look after you guys like I know you look after me."

But Dave wanted to be there. Desperately. He wanted to help his friends, too. He wanted to be more like John. He probably always had, really. Silly, derpy, cinematic genius. Black hair, buck teeth, blue eyes… John was a normal kid. A good kid. He wasn't the insufferable fuck-up Dave was.

Even in friendship, John was the God Tier, while Dave never even made it to real knighthood. Dave was useless in the game and he was useless now.

It started as a tickle in the back of his throat. An unknown feeling. He tried to choke it back but it forced its way up his chest, an unintentional and alien reaction. He fought and lost.

Dave sobbed.

The moment the strangled noise escaped his lips he began to panic. What the hell was he doing? Dave didn't even cry for _pain_. What the fuck?

John wrapped his arms tightly around the blond. He rested his head against Dave's. "You know, I could never do this stuff without you, Dave. You're my best friend. I know you think you're horrible at this stuff, but you've helped me, and that's all that matters. Okay?"

But Dave couldn't speak. He was too busy battling his tear ducts, which he had long ago been convinced were unable to function.

He was losing. Again.

Careful not to knock off his glasses, Dave wiped his face on his sleeve. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His face was probably red and his body felt far too hot to be comfortable. Is this what crying was like? No wonder he never did it.

Dave took a few deep, shaking breaths. Okay. He could do this. "Sorry, man. I don't know what came over me…" he mumbled.

"Don't you dare fucking apologize, Dave. Just stop there," John warned.

"Fuck. I'm tired." The spasms and tears had died down, finally. He was starting to regain composure.

John nodded. He finally pulled back his arms, rising to his feet. He stretched a bit, before offering a hand to Dave. "C'mon, let's just go sleep."

"Yeah…" Dave accepted and John hauled him to his feet. He had to admit, John was stronger than he had thought. "Anyway, you can take the bed. I'll just camp out on the couch."

"What? No, Dave, I am not letting you sleep on the couch!" John frowned a bit. "We're staying together."

"Yeah, Dave, sleep with your waifu."

Horrified, Dave turned to see Bro standing casually in the doorway to the kitchen, a can of soda in his hand. Bro grinned.

"You _asshole_, how long have you been there," Dave spluttered.

"You say that as though you think I ever left," Bro replied cheerfully.

"Oh, wow, I didn't really…wow." John shuffled on his feet.

"Sup." Bro nodded to him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go to sleep, you assholes. It's way past your bedtime."

"Fuck you," Dave said, but he turned and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door. Before John could follow, Bro flashed in his path, blocking the way.

He grinned down at the startled boy. "Thanks."

"I…uh…" John struggled for a response. He shrugged helplessly. "It's what I'm good for, I guess."

"Be proud of it. Not many people can say the same." He ruffled John's hair. "Not in this household, at least."

John fidgeted. "I don't think you're a bad brother, you know. Dave's just…Dave."

"It's good that one of us thinks that." Without warning, Bro reached out and pulled John into a one armed hug, crushing the boy to his chest. "You're a good kid, Egbert. Don't give up on the little asshole just yet."

And then he vanished.


	54. Lens 54

**Obscura ~ Age 0**

Dials and buttons blinked randomly, indicating Gog-knows-what. The computer they belonged to whirred contentedly underneath, its purpose fulfilled.

The children seemed placid enough. He thought they were all very cute. Too cute. He smiled giddily.

Occasionally, a baby would turn to face him. For the most part, however, they stuck to themselves. It was fascinating to watch. He had never really seen babies before. Not in real life, that is—on television, sure.

They had such large eyes. It would be almost disconcerting if it wasn't so damned adorable. Big, round, colourful eyes. He kept grinning that same stupid grin, unable to make any other expression. It was too exciting. He was positively vibrating.

So this is what everyone looked like as a baby. This was what _he_ looked like as a baby. He had seen pictures, sure, but this was different. This was real life and it was cooing at him from the transporter pad. Photos couldn't do that. At least, not outside of movies.

"Hey, Rose. What kind of fanfiction are you writing? And hi, Mom. I bet you're already planning all sorts of passive-aggressive battles, aren't you?" he muttered, grinning like an idiot. "Hi, tiny Jade. Don't forget to plant some pumpkins, okay? And Grandpa, you… I guess, try not to die? I don't really know… Oh! Hey, Lil John! Just wait until you see Con Air, it will be the best fucking movie of your _life_. O-oh, and Nanna, you must be itching to bake some—ugh—cookies, huh? Hehe. Over there, you must be little Dave! I can tell by the swag you got going on, man, cool from the start, eh?" He hesitated slightly. "Erm… Oh! And Bro! How about a manly high five? Don't leave me hangin'! I've wanted to do this a long time!"

He reached over and held the baby's arm up carefully, giving him a very gentle (but still very manly) high five. "Nice!" He paused. "So…I guess you're all like a rainbow! Ectogenetics at work, I guess! Hehe."

The baby stared up at him, oblivious.

Alright, playtime was over. It was time to finish the job.

…but not before perhaps re-enacting one of the best scenes in the entire history of cinema.


	55. Lens 55

**Obscura ~ Age 15**

"What would you like for dinner, Strider?"

"What. Now. It's like eleven at night."

"Don't patronize me, Strider, I know you're practically nocturnal."

"Doesn't matter. I don't trust anything you make."

Rose's mouth tightened. Dave was quickly learning that this was a warning sign. "I thought that, as I have forced you to travel all the way here to satisfy my own desires, it would be the least I could do to make you something."

"Shit. Fine. Make whatever you want, I don't care."

"I see. I shall bake you a vegan eggplant casserole forthwith."

"Fuck. No. Not that."

"Then pick something."

"Dammit, Rose, just something fucking easy, okay. Just fry a fucking egg or something and we'll call it even."

"How dull."

"Jegus, I'm not even hungry. What do you want from me."

"Have you been eating well?"

"What."

"Need I repeat myself? Are your ears, like your eyes, now also obscured?"

"Shit, Rose, I can see fine. And I don't need to hear your whole 'look at the sky' spiel again, thank you very much. You know what I meant, so don't be such a dick about it."

She crossed her arms, tapping her foot on the floor impatiently. "Have you been eating well, Strider? It is not a difficult question."

"If it's coming from you, anything is fucking difficult."

"I do not intend to analyze your answer to the degree you think." She stopped then shook her head. "No, I misspoke. I do not intend to analyze your answer in the _direction_ you think."

"And what direction is that, pray tell."

"Your latent homos—"

"For fuck's sake, Rose, I'm not having this discussion again, okay. Jegus. I'm going hom—"

Rose caught the collar of his shirt and pulled him back. "Not so fast, Strider. Don't get so worked up. You were the one who pressed _me_ on the details, remember? It was your own undoing."

"Let go."

She reached up and gently slapped his cheek a couple times. "I only asked because you look pale."

"I am always fucking pale. I am the goth kid that sits in the dark depths of his occult-oriented room writing shitty wizard fanfiction and oh wait, no, that's you."

"Just answer the question, Strider."

Dave looked down at her. Though her expression was ever indecipherable, he knew she was worried. Fuck. Why was everyone always worrying about him? They should worry about themselves instead. "I don't know. I don't follow your weird hippie no meat-no sugar-no fun diet."

"I am on no such diet. Have you been eating regularly?"

"I don't know. Sure. Why not."

"Strider," she warned.

"Fuck, Rose, can you maybe take a few steps back. I don't need you all up in my business like this, your sisterly affection is about to up and suffocate me with weird paradox love."

She smirked. "You can't handle even a little intimacy, can you?"

"Of course I can. I am the pimp of the fucking town. People throw their money at me just to lick my gogdamn shoes."

"So you are a male prostitute specializing in a very particular brand of pleasure. I can't say I'm surprised."

"No. No, that is not what I am saying. Fuck."

"You look unnaturally thin, too. Especially when compared with your, ah, other sibling."

"I am the same size I've always been. I'm just _taller_. Excuse me if I am not the chiselled block of manly meat you somehow have come to expect."

"Have you been speaking with your brother lately? Are you on good terms? I would have hoped that you would come to form stronger bonds, but as you are, that may be difficult."

"Fuck. Fuck. Rose, I am not doing this with you." He put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her away. "You can take your questions and your psychoanalysis bullshit and fucking cram it where even the Horrorterrrors can't find them, okay. Fuck."

"Very well. I will allow you a brief respite while I make your—" She paused to make the very expression of distaste—"'_egg'_."

"Fucking _thank you_."


	56. Lens 56

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

Pain.

Pain was the first thing that Dave felt when he woke up. Pain everywhere. It ran across his shoulders, down his back, over his hips. Just pain.

"Fuck," he groaned, shifting. Jade was still asleep, snoring softly against his chest. His back ached. Everything ached. He wanted her to wake up so that he could finally move.

Except he didn't. Not even a little.

After all, the longer she slept, the better. For Jade, insomnia must be absolute torture, a circle of hell devoted entirely to narcoleptics. He didn't blame her for freaking out.

Then he wondered about her dreams. Were they filled like fire like his? No, it was Jade. Jade's dreams would be frost and frogs, not lava and gears. Right?

He tried to stretch his muscles without disturbing her, carefully flexing his back and his arms. Jade stirred. Shit. Failure.

"Dave…?" She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Sup."

"Thank you. I feel so much better."

He ruffled her hair. "Good."

Jade giggled and stretched like a cat. "I don't remember the last time I was able to sleep like that."

"I'm glad." He hesitated. "Look, uh, my back is killing me. Is it okay if I get up now."

"Yes! Sorry!" Jade sprang to her feet, horrified. "I'm so sorry! Dave, I didn't—"

"It's fine." He stood and stretched out his back. His muscles started to relax and he was able to breathe without shooting pains running up his sides again. "Fuck. Okay. I think that's a bit better."

She plucked at her sleeves, unable to make eye contact. "Do you want me to, um, give you a backrub?"

"What. No. I'm fine now." Dave waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about me, man. I came here for you, remember."

Her gaze dropped to the floor. "Yeah…"

Dave shoved his hands in his pockets. Shit. What was he supposed to do now? He wasn't exactly the greatest at helping people. Why had Rose and John ever thought it was a good idea to send _him_? Literally _anyone_ would have been better—even the trolls. "So, uh, have you eaten lately."

"Are you hungry?" Jade flicked her eyes up to him. Fuck, they were so green. Aside from Jade, he had never seen someone with eyes like that. He wondered if her grandpa had eyes like that back when the old asshole was still alive.

"No. I'm still working off that fantastic plane food. My stomach is set for fucking weeks." Dave had secretly vowed never to eat on a plane again.

"Oh, well, I'm okay…"

He snorted. "Excuse me while I don't believe you." Dave reached over and tugged at a lock of her long hair.

"Ow, hey."

"Look." He tried to emphasize his words, but speaking earnestly was all but impossible for him. "Don't lie to me."

"I—I'm not."

"Harley, I am absolute shit at this sort of thing. You know that. So you're going to have to make it easier for me and be really fucking honest with me."

Jade sighed. "I know, Dave. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. It's annoying."

"Really? S—I mean, I—"

"Shit. No. Don't listen to me." He rubbed his temples roughly between his thumb and index finger. He was already fucking everything up. "That wasn't what I meant. Just do whatever you want."

"Dave, it's okay, you know. We can just hang out if you want. I… John told me it's really hard for you to talk about all of…_this_, right?" she laughed. "I can take care of myself! It's okay!"

"I said to fucking stop lying."

She flinched. "That was a little scary, Dave."

"Harley, look at your room. _I'm_ the one that should be fucking terrified right now."

"I'm sorry." Without warning, Jade's shoulders began to tremble. She buried her face in her hands.

"Shit. Shit. No, don't cry. I didn't—fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What do I do?" He bit his lip. "Harley, I didn't… Fuck." He could feel his face burning beneath the cold glass and metal of his shades. "Shit."

"I'm sorry, Dave," she repeated. "I'm so sorry."

"Shit—Har—_Jade_, this isn't your fault."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not—fuck." He could feel the panic rising in his chest, the smoke curling its fingers around his throat. No, not this time. He had to get out the words before they disappeared in his mind. He had to say _something_, anything. "Jade, I…"

"I'm sorry, Dave, crying like this, making you do all these stupid things." She rubbed her eyes on her sleeves. "L-look, I'm better now, see?"

"Fuck. Stop…stop lying," he pleaded through gritted teeth. "You can tell me the truth. Stop worrying about me and just…just start worrying about yourself."

She giggled shakily. "You can't say that, Dave! You know I'll worry about you no matter what. I've been worrying about you for _years_."

"Yeah, well, you can stop doing that now. I'm here and I'm fine and _I'm_ the one worrying about _you_. There isn't enough worry left for you, man. I've hogged it all. It belongs to me now. All of it. Just _all the worry_."

"T-that's silly."

"Yeah, well, I'm a pretty fucking silly guy."

"No, Dave! You're the cool guy, remember?" She grinned.

"Yeah, I—fuck, no, Harley, I can't do this." Dave shook his head. He was supposed to be helping her through her problems, not glossing over them. "Fuck."

"I'm sorry, Dave."

Dave grimaced, fighting an intense inner battle. He couldn't speak. He wanted to speak. He shouldn't speak. He had to. "I said—stop—apologizing!"

Jade stared at him, startled. "Dave…I don't think I've ever heard you shout before."

"Fuck. Sorry." He raked his fingers through his blonde hair. Everything felt hot. Had the room just burst into fucking flames while he wasn't looking? He pulled at the collar of his shirt.

"Now you're doing it, too. See? It's hard to stop."

"Fuck."

"Dave?"

"Yeah."

She stepped forward and slipped her arms around him. "I'm sorry."

Now the panic had risen to peak levels and raged at him in full force. He felt his heart thudding against his chest and he stiffened, unable to think. "Y…eah."

_What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?_ played over and over again in his mind.

"I can hear your heartbeat."

He froze. "What."

"It's nice. It's kind of soothing, like I know that you're really here. Like it's not a dream." She tightened her embrace.

"It's-it's not a dream. I'm really here and you're not alone. Seriously," he said awkwardly.

"Thanks for coming, Dave. I know you think you're really bad at this, but you aren't."

"Like hell I'm not." He had to force the words past his tongue.

"You aren't. You're a really good guy, Dave."

"I'm a fucking asshole. I'm the one that deserves all this shit, not you."

Jade looked up at him. Quickly, he adjusted his shades. Could she see from that angle? Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

"You don't deserve it either, Dave," she said quietly. "None of us do."

"I know." Briefly, he returned the hug, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "I just don't want it to be you."

"I think I can understand that." She laughed and he felt her shaking under his arms. He released her and stepped back, then coughed into his fist.

"So, uh. How about I make you the illest stew you've ever laid those glassy green peepers on."

"That sounds delicious."

"Damn straight it is. It is a fucking foodgasm all up on your tongue, partying hard and taking no prisoners." What the hell was he saying? He was spewing total bullshit!

But she didn't seem to notice. "I look forward to it!"


	57. Lens 57

**Obscura ~ Age 8**

"Sit your ass back down on that couch."

Dave froze in place. "Fuck."

"Thought I wouldn't catch you, dumbass?" Bro leaned on the back of the sofa. Dave couldn't see past his shades, but he knew his brother was staring straight at him. His elbows were starting to hurt from crawling across the floor.

"Stupid fucking ninja," said Dave.

"Damn straight. Now get back on that couch and under the covers and watch your shitty anime or sleep or whatever it takes for you to not be germing up the damned apartment."

"I'm better already," Dave protested.

"Oh really?" Bro raised his eyebrows.

"Fucking yes, really."

"Then come here, you little douchebag." Bro beckoned. Hesitantly, Dave pushed himself off the floor and walked over to the couch. Bro pressed his hand against the boy's forehead. "Jesus, you're still burning up. I don't even need a fucking thermometer to know you're like this close to catching on fire."

"You're lying."

"You think I want to stay home and watch you lie there like a fucking slug? There is no reason for me to lie. You're not _that_ interesting, man."

"You're a sadist. That's why."

Bro snorted. "Where the hell did you learn that word? No, don't answer that. I don't even want to know. It was probably me. Just lie on the couch and I'll make you some soup."

"I'm sick of soup. I fucking hate soup."

"Yeah, well, I'm tired of making it. But you'll eat it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Bro grinned, tapping his stupid anime shades. Dave knew he had been defeated. Years of experience had taught him that it was impossible to defy his brother for long. Bro was a fucking ninja, after all.

So Dave slid under the blankets piled on the couch and rolled onto his side, flicking the on button on the TV remote. He narrowed his eyes. There were only shitty daytime programs on—nothing fun.

After a few minutes, Bro brought over a chipped mug of soup. "Drink up, little douchebag."

"Fuck you." Dave took the cup and sipped it carefully. He choked. "The fuck did you do? Make a cup of noodles, eat them and leave the shitty broth for me?"

"Something like that." Bro shrugged, throwing himself into the chair beside the couch. "Oh, dude. Fucking soap operas, yes."

"What. You like them."

"Hell yes."

"You're a fucking idiot."

"No, you are just heavily lacking in the imagination department. What you've gotta do is dub over all the lines in your head."

"What do you mean."

"Hell, even just adding narration makes it fantastic."

"I don't get it."

"Jesus, what have they been teaching you at that school?"

"Math and shit."

"Well, watch and learn." Bro viewed the program for a minute, then cleared his throat. "_It was a day like any other day on Appleberry Road…_"

"This is stupid."

"_Linda was ready to bring in her groceries from the car. Slowly, she reached for the keys in her purse and unlock her front door…"_

"You're stupid."

"_Little did she know that her cat…was SATAN._"

"The shit are you saying."

"_Satan greeted her at the door. Its mouth said, 'meoowwww', but its eyes said, 'you'll be the first to die.'_"

"There isn't even a cat in this scene, what the fuck are you saying."

"_Oblivious, Linda went to the fridge. Satan followed. Satan loved tuna._"

"Shut up, this is awful."

"_Linda heard a rapping on the window. Was it her love, the Admiral, returned from his vacation? No, it was Dracu—_"

"Shut the hell up, I'm trying to sleep." Dave pulled the covers over his head and buried his face in his pillow.

Bro grinned. "Nighty night." He had won again, of course. He always did.

Bro was a fucking ninja, after all.


	58. Lens 58

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Dave thunked his head down on the coffee table. And then he did it again. And again. And again. _Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk._

How could he have been so stupid? So weak? Calling Bro was probably the dumbest thing he had ever done. Shit.

_Click_.

Dave heard the key turn in the lock. He heard Bro shove the ill fitting door open. He heard the rustling of groceries and the clunk as they were set on the floor.

"Dave?"

But Dave didn't reply. He had no right to reply. He had failed.

"Dave?"

There was a strangely hesitant tone in Bro's voice. It was something Dave had only heard a few times before. He couldn't place the feeling, but it was certainly peculiar.

"David? Dave? Are you—_shit, you little bastard, you were sitting there all along._" Bro snarled down at him. "You could have fucking said something, you little prick."

"Fuck off," said Dave.

"How about you fucking explain yourself?" Bro flashed forward and snatched up a handful of Dave's shirt, lifting him to his feet. "Calling me like that and then just not replying when I come home? Jegus! What were you thinking?"

"Sorry I was so weak," Dave muttered tonelessly.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Next time I won't call."

"Is that what you think this is about? You're a fucking idiot, you know that, don't you?" Bro tossed him back on the couch and Dave bounced a few times. Bro rubbed his eyes roughly beneath his shades.

"Careful, asshole. I'm not some fucking puppet," Dave snapped, adjusting his glasses.

"You think I don't know that?"

"Oh, right. Sorry. I'm sure you'd be much happier if I was."

Bro grimaced. "You're such an idiot."

"Yeah, well, you're the one that _raised_ this idiot. You sure that fucked up, didn't you."

"Yeah." Bro's voiced was strained. "You're right. I did. And I'm sorry."

Dave blinked and Bro was gone.


	59. Lens 59

**Obscura ~ Age 17**

"Egbert…"

"Mm…yeah, Dave?"

"Get your gogdamn hands off of me. You hug in your fucking sleep, you asshole."

"That's harsh, Dave! I hope you don't treat your girlfriends like this."

Dave groaned and rolled over. "Fuck, man."

John laughed and sat up, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table. He slipped them on and yawned. "Wow, Dave. I still can never understand how you can sleep with your shades on. Doesn't it hurt?"

"I'm too cool for that," Dave replied, voice muffled by his pillow.

"Did you sleep alright? You sound tired."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Dave finally pushed himself up. "Fuck." He rubbed his cheek roughly, wondering how badly it had bruised.

John whistled. "Nice shiner you got there, Dave. Man, I guess I don't know my own strength!"

"Yeah, you're a regular muscleman there, Egbert." Dave swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"You're fine though, right?" John felt a bit worried. Just or not, he had been the one to punch his friend.

"Fucking peachy. I need an aspirin." Dave stood and staggered out into the living room.

"Did you sleep well with your waifu?" Bro grinned, leaning on the kitchen door.

"Shut the fuck up," Dave said, shoving past his brother. "Where's the aspirin."

"Aw, does pussy have a headache?"

"Fuck you."

"Seriously, man. Look at me for a minute."

"Don't touch my gogdamn fac—"

"Jegus, you're like a fucking Chihuahua. Stop twitching like a douchebag and let me take a look."

"Fuck off." Dave struggled with Bro for a minute, then lost. Bro examined the bruise, keeping a tight grip on Dave's shoulder to keep him from absconding.

"Yep, that's a beauty. Egbert sure did a number on you. Then again, he's certainly got a good few inches of height on you, I'm sure that—"

"Are you fucking done yet." Dave slapped him away and went to the counter, unscrewing the jar of aspirin. He took two and downed them with a glass of water from the sink.

John wandered his way into the kitchen, waving at Bro. "G'morning!" he greeted cheerfully.

"Hey." Bro grinned. "Sleep well, lil Eggie?"

"Sure did. Dave's comfy."

Dave choked on his water. "Egber—"

"Yeah, man. He's fucking better than pillows," chuckled Bro.

John tapped his lip, thoughtful. "I don't think he was that comfy."

Bro shrugged. "Maybe he's too bony. Hear that, Dave? Bulk up so your waifu can have a better mattress."

"Fuck you. Fuck both of you," Dave said, dumping out the rest of his water.

John grinned. "Dave, you sure don't know how to play along, do you?"

"Fuck you," Dave repeated.

"Hey, Dave?" Bro said.

"What. What do you—"

Bro flicked Dave's sunglasses off. There was a moment of shocked silence.

"You asshole." Dave snatched a handful of Bro's shirt. His heart thudded painfully against his chest and he could feel his lungs catching on his breath. "What the hell are you—"

"Gentlemen's glasses pact," Bro replied.

Dave's shoulders shook, but he forced himself to ignore it. "That doesn't even fucking—"

"Dave, it's not that big of a deal," John said patiently. "C'mon. You won't die if you have them off."

"See? Your waifu gets it," Bro said. Dave ignored him, reaching for the glasses that had skittered across the floor upon impact. Bro grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. "I said _gentlemen's glasses pact_, bitch."

"I don't see you taking yours off, asshole. Isn't that the deal." Dave struggled, but Bro was obviously the stronger of the two.

Bro chuckled, taking off his own pointy shades. "Happy now?"

"So fucking happy," Dave snapped.

"Come on, man. Let those devil peepers breathe."

"Fuck you." Heat rose in his chest and he grit his teeth. He felt so naked without his shades. His expressions, his thoughts—everything was laid bare without his tinted shield.

"Look, Egbert isn't running away. Isn't that good?"

"That's because he already knows, asshole. I can't believe you did this." Dave tried to pull away, but Bro's grip was firm. "What if he hadn't known. What if—"

"Hey, leave him alone, alright?" John stepped forward, clenching his hands into fists. "It's not funny."

Bro regarded him with amusement. "Funny?"

John swung out, but his fist connected with nothing but air. Flashstepping. He spun to see Bro casually sitting on the counter.

"Look, Dave's easy to bother sometimes. But don't you fucking tease him about his eyes. If he's that upset, drop it. You're his brother. Know the limits."

Bro started laughing. "Damn, man… I can't even keep a straight face now."

"How is this funny?" John demanded. "Dave's probably going to have a panic attack and you're laughing? You're better than this."

But Bro couldn't stop. "I'm—sorry. You don't understand. From my point of view, this is just… I'm coming off as such an asshole, wow." He tipped his cap. He took a deep breath. "Ah. Okay. Egbert, you're a good kid. I'm glad _this_ little asshole—" he jabbed his thumb in Dave's direction—"has a friend like you."

John eyed him warily. "Just watch what you say. Dave's my friend. And that was too far."

Bro shrugged. "I'm a rough guy. Isn't that right, douchebag?"

Dave looked away, gripping his arms tightly. "Yeah. John, I… it's fine. I get it."

"I don't care," John stated simply. "I think you're completely capable of being nice to him. Or at least respecting him. Dave, you aren't fine, and you don't have to pretend. You can put your sunglasses on."

"Keyword," said Bro.

"Fuck you," Dave replied. Bro grinned.

"It's not about being nice or about respect. I just had to make it happen." Bro shrugged. "But then, I guess I was a little late to the party. Damn, kids nowadays are fast as fucking lightning."

"Yes, well, I guess now we've established for certain I know Dave has red eyes and I don't care," John said, still miffed. "Us kids are pretty fucking special."

Bro chuckled, still grinning. "Don't you think it'd be good for him to be comfortable without the shades around people who aren't me? As you've no doubt realized, I'm a bit of an asshole myself."

"I'm not sure this is the best way to do that. But what do I know? I'm just some kid, after all." He gave a short laugh.

"There is no best way when it comes to Dave, Eggie. There's just the one."

"Force him?"

"Pretty much."

John sighed. "I just want to make sure Dave's okay. I came here to look after him."

"But he's not okay."

"Well, then, that's what I'm here for," John replied, giving a small shrug. He grinned over at Dave. "Right, Dave?"

Dave flinched, caught off guard. "What. Yeah. Sure. Whatever." His mind was buzzing, making it rather difficult to understand the conversation. "Look, guys. I appreciate this…insanity, or whatever it is, but I'm fucking fine."

John raised an eyebrow, opened his mouth, and closed it again. He sighed. "Do either of you want breakfast?"

"Not hungry," Dave muttered.

"You sure you aren't still pissed at me?" Bro asked, grinning.

"It's fine. I'm not hungry, either," John replied.

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"I don't usually eat breakfast. Just thought I'd ask."

"Oh, better than a 'yes', then. I have reached whole new levels of douchedom in your mind, haven't I?"

John looked Bro over for a moment. "Not really. I don't really want to talk about this shit. Just. Nevermind, I guess."

"This is a great fucking conversation and all, but can I go now. You know, leave you two assholes at it. I think I'm going to puke," Dave said suddenly.

Bro frowned. "Want me to come with you?" He grinned again. "Hold your hair back like a little gir—"

"Fuck off."

"Dave, do you need a hand, though?" John was worried.

"No. Don't touch me. I'm fine," Dave replied. His stomach clenched.

John hesitated. He wanted to go with him. "Dave. I understand."

"Fuck, Egbert, I'm not leaving the house. Don't give me that fucking look. Jegus."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to."

"I—no. Shit. Egbert, just chill. It's fine. I'm used to it, already, se… Fuck, stay here for a bit." Dave ducked out of the room.

John sighed, slumping to the floor. "Shit. I guess I'm not much better at this than you, huh?" He glanced at Bro.

"Don't blame yourself. That's just how he is. Being an asshole is the only way to get a rise out of him like that." Bro shrugged.

"I just…I wish there was more I could do. I thought…argh, I don't even know."

"I know." Bro flashed to the floor beside the boy. He reached out a hand and ruffled John's hair. "But I think you're helping more than you seem to realize. This isn't the worst reaction I've seen from him, you know."

"I guess I'm sorry I tried to hit you before. I just didn't want you picking on him over his eyes. I know he's kind of…sensitive about them."

"Yeah." Bro sighed and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "I guess that's my fault, too. But…that's just how we deal with it, I guess."

John brought his legs up close. "Hey, does he know? About your eyes?"

Bro froze. "What do you mean?"

"You know. That they're…well. You know."

"Of course I fucking know. The question is, how did _you_?"

John looked shocked for a moment. "Oh. I uh. I made you. I saw you as a baby…in game."

"No shit? Wow. Well, I guess that'd explain it." Bro snorted. "Nah, Dave doesn't know."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"One day. When he's ready."

John nodded. "Alright. And don't worry. I won't tell."

"Yeah. You're a good kid." Bro laughed. "He's pretty damned lucky to have you."

"Thanks." John curled up a bit more. "Hey, uh. Do you get worried about him, too?"

"What kind of question is that? I'm his fucking brother. I never _stop_ worrying about the little douchebag."

"I just wanted to be sure. I'm glad he has you."

"I worry about you, too. All of you kids. I can't imagine what kind of shit you must all be going through. Just watching him is hard enough."

John nodded and took a deep breath. "Yeah, it can get rough. But that's why I'm looking out for everyone."

"Don't forget to look out for yourself, too. Otherwise you'll end up like that asshole and he'll have to come and punch _you_ in the face. It's okay for you to rely on people, too, Egbert." Bro laughed. "Well. He's not the most reliable, but he'll do his best. Hell, you can even come to me if you need anything. I can't see you wanting to, though. I checked out kind of early in the game, didn't I? Didn't go through the same things you all did."

"I just want to look after everyone else," John replied stubbornly. "They're all my friends and I don't want them upset. Or douchey. And I don't know if Dave could hit me like that. I'd have to really piss him off." He paused for a moment. "Thanks for the offer, though."

"It'll only get worse," Bro warned. "Trust me on that. I don't want a good kid like you going down that road. Besides…if you can't trust them, how the hell do you expect them to trust you? Dave is awkward as fuck, but he'll listen. You're his best friend."

"He's mine, too." John felt his vision begin to blur. He shook his head, trying to clear it up. He couldn't be sick, that was not going to help. "I trust them. Why are we talking about me, though? I came here for Dave."

"We're talking about you because you are currently sitting beside me in my kitchen. Besides, I can keep an eye on Dave. He lives with me. I can't keep an eye on you. It's not really a deep reason."

John forced a laugh. He was feeling dizzy. "I have Dad. Don't worry. I don't…" He closed his eyes. It would pass. "I don't need you looking after me, it's alright."

"So he wouldn't kill me if I let his precious son come to harm?" Bro glanced at the boy. "You're looking pretty pale, man. Do you need to lie down? I don't need both you kids dying on me."

"He barely even knows you." John's voice tightened into a squeak. He clutched his head, leaning forward. The room felt like it was spinning.

"Focus on your breathing," Bro said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Just breathe. That's all."

John gave a small nod, taking a few shallow breaths. He didn't want to be sick. He had to look after Dave. With a small movement, he slumped against Bro, "It'll pass. I just need a minute."

"Just breathe," Bro repeated, rubbing the boy's back. Shit. He was just brilliant at making kids sick today. "Don't worry. Just breathe."

John did. After a moment, he leaned back, stretching out his legs and running a hand through his hair. At least he wasn't dizzy. "Sorry about that. I'm not…so good at this anymore."

Bro chuckled. "No problem, man. You get sort of used to handling these situations. Just take as long as you need."

John looked away. "I used to be better. I dunno. Shit changes when you grow up, I guess."

"Yeah." He sighed. "It's okay, though. Don't blame yourself for this shit. It hits you when it hits you, you know?"

John smiled slightly. "You know, you're pretty good at this."

"Yeah, well…like I said, practice."

John nodded, turned, and threw his arms around Bro. "Thanks. It really helps." He dropped his arms, shuffling back a bit. "Do you think we should check on Dave?"

"Probably. That asshole's been gone a while." Bro stood, holding out a hand to John. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah." Of course he would be. Dave was more important then, anyway. He grabbed Bro's hand and pulled himself up.

"Just don't push yourself too hard." Bro paused to ruffle John's hair once more, then flashed to the bathroom.

"Fuck off," Dave said immediately. He was clutching his stomach and looking rather pale.

"Nah, bro. Did that already." Bro grinned. "How're you doing? Did you puke up a camel yet?"

"Piss off."

John wandered his way in, significantly slower than Bro. "Hey, Dave. Holding up okay?"

"Fuck, you're here, too. Yeah, I'm fucking peachy. Look, I'm fine. Just go away. I don't need you two ogling me with those fucking eyes of yours."

"I'm just making sure you're okay, Dave."

"I know, man. I know. I really am fine. My stomach is just playing up a fucking samba, that's all."

"Yeah, I hate that." He sat down next to Dave. "Sucks, huh?"

"The hell are you talking about, Egbert," Dave breathed.

"It's alright. I'll tell you later! Right now, just try and feel better, okay?" John offered him a smile.

"You're fucking bizarre, Egbert," Dave said, closing his eyes.

John chuckled. "Yeah. I know."

Opening his eyes again, Dave checked to see if Bro was gone. It seemed that way, but it was always hard to tell with that ninja douchebag. He narrowed his eyes. "Hey, Egbert…"

"Yeah?"

"Does it…does it really not bother you."

John blinked. "Your eyes?"

"Yeah."

"No, it doesn't bother at me at all. They don't change anything about you." John shrugged. "I figure, you've always had them. It's different, sure, but not something for me to really give a second thought to. You're my best friend. Shit like that doesn't matter to me."

Dave reached to adjust his glasses, but pulled his hands away when he remembered that they were still under the kitchen table. "Thanks."


	60. Lens 60

**Obscura ~ Age -1**

"Hey, Shades. How's my favourite DJ coming along?"

"Verity. I didn't know you were playing tonight."

"Of course I'm playing tonight." She slipped her arms around his waist and held him tight. "And how could I miss you do your music thing?"

"How's your arm doing?"

She pursed her painted blue lips, holding a hand to her arm. "It's fine."

"Are you sure? Don't push yourself too hard."

Verity waved her hand dismissively. "Something little like this is nothing."

"Keep your eyes on the road next time."

"Oh? Are you worried about me?" She grinned pointedly.

"Of course I'm fucking worried about you, idiot." Bro spun on his heel to face her. "Doing stupid shit like that could get you killed."

Verity just shrugged. "It's fine. Or maybe I should say, it's fine for _me_. I'll make that bitch pay, though."

"Leave it."

She leaned in closer. "Is that an order? Are you giving _me_ an order?"

"You bet your ass I am. Don't go after her. I don't need you getting arrested. _Again_."

Laughing, Verity stepped back. "Whatever you say, Shades."

"Fucking fantastic."

She paused, looking at the control panel for the lights. "Hey, Shades…"

"Sup."

"After this is all over… do you want to go on a date?"

He paused, holding the half-wound electrical cord in his hand. "Do you even need to ask?"

"No. I guess you're right." She chuckled, blue eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "I always get what I want."


	61. Lens 61

**AN**: Moving in is hard asg;dakg;lsekgasdj But now I live with the rest of thinkingCAPSLOCK so maybe we'll keep getting shit done

Or we'll just

Never do anything again a;skldg;sjks

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

[turntechGodhead has begun pestering gardenGnostic]

TG: hey

TG: look i know you havent been replying to

TG: well any of us

TG: all of us

TG: jegus

TG: just all of us

TG: jade were pretty fucking worried you know

TG: at least send me a fucking text or something

TG: hell anyone

TG: just let us know youre alive for fucks sake

TG: you are alive right

TG: jade i cant do this

TG: you have to be alive

TG: you have to

TG: ….

TG: did i do something

TG: did i fuck something up jegus jade tell me

TG: fuck

TG: we miss you

TG: i miss you

TG: just answer soon okay

TG: fuck

TG: bye


	62. Lens 62

**Obscura ~ Age 18**

This was some mind-numbing shit right here. Why did a show like this even exist? It was like psychology written by people on drugs. _All_ of the drugs.

Dave heard a faint knocking on the door. Was the neighbour going to complain about the mailbox again? How many times would he have to give her directions to her _actual_ mailbox?

He stood and shuffled to the door, not bothering to check through the peephole. He turned the lock and pulled it open.

"Look, man, I—Egbert." He blinked behind the tinted glass. "The hell are you doing here."

John stood a bit awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. He had a duffle bag over his one shoulder. "Hey, Dave! I felt the need to visit!" he replied cheerfully.

"Uh. Okay. Come in, I guess." Dave moved aside.

"Thanks." John smiled, wandering his way into the house and kicking off his shoes.

"Did you, uh, want to watch a movie or something," Dave asked, still perplexed over the sudden visit. John had never mentioned he was coming—not even in passing. "You're not going to punch me again, are you."

"What? Are you still worried I'll do that again?" John stifled another laugh with his hand. "No, I am not here to punch you."

"If you say so, man. So…sup, I guess." Dave shrugged, leaning against the back of his couch.

"I can punch you if you want me to!" John offered. He flopped down onto the floor. "Not much is happening, bro. Felt like chilling. You're the chillest guy I know."

"Yeah, I'm so chill we don't even have to plug in the fucking fridge," Dave replied.

"So cool," John agreed, laughing.

x.x.x

Three days later, John still hadn't left. Dave was beginning to wonder just what the hell was up. Three days and John had said nothing about this visit beyond, "I felt like it!"

"Egbert…" Dave began. The two were sitting on the couch, watching a mindless shitty psychological fuckery of an anime.

"Hmmm?" John replied, picking at his fingers.

Dave chose his words carefully. "Look, man… It's not that I don't love having you here. We are just fucking awesome bros and our illocity just extends past the conceivable boundaries of cool. Just…how long are you staying?"

John froze. "I can go."

"No, man, Jesus. I'm just…worried, I guess. What the hell is up, Egbert. This sort of thing is just very...strange. Are you okay. Seriously."

"I'm fine. What's so strange about visiting my friend?" He played with a piece of hair.

Dave watched John carefully for a minute, sizing him up. "Fuck it, Egbert." He grabbed John's raised hand roughly. "Don't lie to me. If you can't talk to me, that's fine, but at least give me some indication of what the hell is bothering you. I think you owe me that."

John wrenched his arm away, glaring. "Dave, I'm fine. Just…drop it."

Dave grimaced. His heart was beating out an uncomfortable rhythm against his chest, but he forced himself to ignore the stress. "Egbert, this isn't funny. You're seriously freaking me out. I am at puppet levels of flipping my shit, man."

John shook his head. "Dave…I'm sorry. I'm freaking myself out too, okay? Please. Please, I am just…"

"Take a deep breath, man, and tell your big bro all about it. What's happening. What's scaring you."

John took a deep, shuddering breath. "Dave…I had a fight."

"With who."

"With…" John bit his lip. He took another breath. "Dave, I had a really big fight with Dad."

It took Dave several minutes to think of something to say. He had to tread carefully. "What…what did he say."

John began to curl up. "He…he didn't want me to talk to you guys for a bit. It just went downhill from there."

"Egbert… Shit, man. Do you…I don't know, do you want a hug or something. I don't know what to say. Shit. I don't understand."

John nodded, feeling close to tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go."

"It's okay, man. I guess…I'm glad you came here." Dave awkwardly put an arm around his friend. "It'll be alright, Egbert. Just wait a little until you both cool down and maybe you can, I dunno, talk it out." He snorted. "I guess I'm not great for advice. Whenever Bro and I get into a fight, it's usually solved with hashrap." In eighteen years, Dave had never won an argument. _Ever._

John nodded mutely, throwing his arms around the blond. "Dave, I can't. I am so scared. I can't talk to him."

Dave patted his friend's back. By now, he had almost become accustomed to being touched to John. Then again, it was hard not to with all the mental breakdowns the two had exchanged. "It's okay, man. Just relax. It's your dad, man. He's a good guy, isn't he. Don't be so scared."

"Dave, I can't stop talking to you guys." John leaned against his shoulder. "Sorry. I should've called. Before I came."

"No. Shit. That's not what I meant. I understand not calling if it was something like that—it was pretty sudden, right. I just… I don't know." Dave shook his head. "There are things you're not telling me, aren't there."

John shuffled back, wiping his eyes. "Of course there are."

"Come on, man. Lay it on me. Tell your big bro everything and we'll figure something out, okay."

John ran a hand through his hair. "It's just…he doesn't think it's good for me. Talking to you guys. I've been sick for almost the past month solid and he just…I dunno. We argued. A lot…and…"

"Yeah… I remember you saying that. Egbert, I… Fuck, this is difficult. Don't panic, man. We can figure something out."

John nodded, stood abruptly, and dashed out of the room.

"Egbert—fuck." Dave scrambled to his feet and followed. "Egbert, where are—fuck." He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, eyes politely averted while his friend puked. When John collapsed, trembling, to his knees, Dave assumed he was probably finished. He walked over and knelt by his friend. "Egbert…"

"It's okay. I do this a lot."

"Shit, Egbert, that's not okay. Look, I can kind of understand where your dad is coming from. This isn't a good situation you're in. But I don't think you should stop talking to us, either, I… I don't know. Maybe I'm being selfish. Fuck. I'm sorry, Egbert."

John sighed. "He wants me to go to therapy."

"Normally, I would probably agree pretty fucking hard on that. But… I don't know. I don't think it's something you could talk to normal people about. Shit."

"It's not. I know it's not either and I know he knows, I've told him before. Dave…I don't know what to do anymore. I can't let you guys do this on your own."

"You're a fucking idiot, Egbert, you know that."

John glanced over. "How so?"

"I've said it before, but I don't think you fucking get it." Dave narrowed his eyes, then reached for his shades, hands steadier than ever. "So I want you to listen really fucking carefully this time, you prick." He took a deep breath, grit his teeth, and pulled his glasses off. If it was for his little brother, he could handle anything. "It's not all about us, Egbert. I don't want you to stop talking to us because I want _you_ to talk to _us_. You can't do this on your own, either. And don't lie to me and tell me you aren't. Stop taking on our problems and lean on us for a fucking change."

John openly gaped. He opened his mouth, closed it. He seemed at a loss for a moment. "You took off your glasses."

"Jegus, Egbert, is that all you took from my eloquent fucking speech there. For fuck's sake, this was pointless." He reached for his shades again.

John slapped his hand. "Dave, no, I'm sorry. Please. It means a lot coming from you. I…I want to talk to you guys. I just want you all to be okay. I just feel like if you need me so much then why would you have time to deal with me?"

That was when Dave snapped. His hand shot out and he grabbed John by the collar, pulling him close. "Look here, you fucking idiot. Stop with this fucking martyr complex and realize that you need help just as much as the rest of us. It's not about time, it's not about being selfless. It's about being a friend, and you're being a pretty shitty friend right now. Stop sacrificing everything for us and realize that this is a two way street, you stupid fucking prick."

John looked away. "I'm sorry. I don't…I don't know what else to say, Dave! I'm just confused and I'm sad and I can't do this anymore, alright? I don't know any other way of dealing with it than this! I wish I could be strong like you guys. I want to be more like you. Please. Please, I can't fight you, too, Dave."

The shaking started with his shoulders, travelling down his chest and over his hips until Dave couldn't control himself any longer. He started to laugh. He dropped his grip, shaking his head. "You want to be more like me. Jegus, Egbert… Don't do that." He looked away, still uncomfortable with meeting John's gaze with his naked eyes. "Egbert, I know it hurts. I know it hurts a _lot_, trust me. This is fucking torture. But…please. I'm not telling you to stop, I don't know, trying to fix us. Just…let us try to fix you, too."

John twisted his fingers in his own shirt. "I…Dave… I don't know what to say. It really means a lot." He wiped at his eyes again. "Sorry."

"It's fine, Egbert. You can't expect anyone to take something this unbelievably shitty alone, right. You've done well. You can take a break now," he mumbled. Shit. His glasses were still off and he could feel his previous bravado fading fast, replaced instead with a hollow, self-conscious emptiness. John may not care about his eyes, but going from bluff to bare was always disgustingly difficult. He bit his lip. _Persevere._

"Dave, can I have another hug?" John asked quietly. "Thanks so much. I'm glad you're here. Thanks for letting me stay."

"No problem…" Dave leaned forward and gave John a brief hug. "Just chill here as long as you want, okay. But only on one condition."

"What?"

"You have to fucking talk to me about this shit. I'm sick of watching you suffer all off by yourself."

John felt himself shake a bit. "I'll be sick."

"Take it at your own pace, man." He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, then reached out and pressed his hand against John's chest. "I—I don't know. I just…keeping it all bottled up will just make it worse. It's…the only answer I can think of." Embarrassed, he pulled his arm back and looked away.

John smiled. "Dave, I really do appreciate all this. Really. You're my best friend." He glanced around the room, though it made him feel a bit dizzy. "Hey, can we…get out of here? This room? I need to sit."

"Yeah, sure." Dave stood, offering a hand to his friend. "Come on."

John grabbed it and hauled himself up, stumbling a bit. He offered a weak smile and a shrug, then made his way into the hall. Dave lingered in the bathroom, fingertips resting lightly on his shades.

Broken or not, it was time to start picking up the pieces.


	63. Lens 63

**Obscura ~ Age 15**

"Strider."

"Whuff," Dave said through a mouthful of egg.

Disgusted, Rose waited for him to finish. "Are you quite done?"

He swallowed. "What," Dave repeated.

"I've been wondering this for quite the length of time…"

"What."

"How can you stand wearing those tinted spectacles every waking moment?"

"I wear them when I sleep, too."

"Well, that just raises more questions."

"It shouldn't."

"You've piqued my curiosity."

"Well, don't be curious."

"I think you're hiding something."

"Fuck, Rose. I'm not hiding anything."

"Then take them off."

"No."

She leaned on the table, eyeing him carefully. "I want to know what you're so keen to protect."

"I'm not protecting anything, for fuck's sake."

"Then why do you insist so profusely that they never leave your face?" She pursed her lips and ran her fingers down a look of platinum hair, smoothing it in place behind her ear.

Sighing, Dave put down his fork, crossed his arms and leaned back. "Alright. You really want to know."

"Yes, I do," she said.

"Well, then. Have you ever thought about this. These shades aren't a fucking wall between me and other people—"

"Other people and me," she corrected, more out of habit than necessity.

"Fucking thanks. Do you want to hear my eloquent speech or not."

"Continue."

"Fantastic. These shades aren't a wall between _other people and me_, like you're so keen on insisting. They are fucking _lie detectors_. They are _people readers_."

Rose stifled a cynical giggle. "Oh?"

"Yes, _oh_. If you can't see my eyes, doesn't that mean you _can't see where I'm looking_, too."

"Obviously."

"Well, then. I've had a fucking lifetime of observation, now, haven't I. I've been watching people since forever and they don't even know I'm doing it."

"That's rather perverse. Have you always had these Peeping Tom leanings?"

"Calm your psychobullshit for a minute and think about this."

Rose's eyes flicked to the half-eaten eggs and she paused for a moment. "So you're saying you're a good judge of people?"

"The fucking best. People do some pretty crazy shit when they think no one's watching. I've seen everything and a half and it's all fucking genuine. I can spot the truth from a mile away in these."

"I can't say that analysis surprises me. Really, though, that doesn't explain why you wear them in your sleep."

Shit. Rose hadn't fallen for his misdirection at all. He decided to shrug it off. "Hey, man. A ninja kid like me's always gotta be ready. Who knows what shit's gonna go down while I'm in bed."

"Hmph. Well. You'll have to forgive me if I don't quite believe in your so-called superior powers of observation."

"Your mouth twitches before you smile and you check yourself out every time you pass a reflective surface."

"I will give you the twitch—that's an obvious quirk. You don't need a tinted screen to be able to notice that. I do not, however, ogle myself in the mirror on every occasion."

"No, you just try to be all subtle about it." He smirked. "You've even used my shades as a makeshift mirror, don't lie."

She gave a short, derisive laugh. "Well, then! That wouldn't be too subtle, now, would it? I'm afraid I've spotted the contradiction here."

"It's not a contradiction if you did it under the context of trying to sneak a peek at my peepers. Which you've also done, by the way. Ever since we first met in game."

"How could I not? It's human instinct to want to see who you're talking to. I'm afraid you'll have to try harder, Strider, before I believe you."

"Alright. You're disgusted by alcohol."

"It hardly takes a—"

"And I mean physically repulsed. Every time you see a bottle, even if it's in passing, you do a weird little flinch."

"I do not."

"Don't get all insulted. I'm just telling you what I see. It's not like I know _why_. Maybe you just really fucking hate the taste."

"That's ridiculous."

"It's the truth."

She heaved a dramatic sigh. "Look, Strider. No matter how many disturbing little factoids you present about me, the fact remains that _I am your friend._ Repeat exposure is by no means an indication of heightened judgement."

"You want to try me out on a stranger then?"

"No, that would be a thoroughly unscientific experiment. There would be no way to test your theories."

"Fuck, Rose. I don't see how this is so hard to get. I'm not lying. Put on a pair of shades and go out for a day, see what happens. You can learn a lot just by staring at people. Hell, it'd work even without shades, except you'd come off as some creepy douchebag staring down every other pedestrian. It's not as obvious when they can't see your face. That's fucking logic right there."

"Is that what you do? Stare at people for extended periods of time?"

"Not as a fucking hobby, no. Jegus. It's called people watching and no, I don't do it all that fucking much."

Rose frowned, considering the information he had presented. "Alright," she said finally, "I will accept your hypothesis for the time being."

"Fucking awesome."

"And I will also from now on assume that you are forever staring at me. This will perhaps hinder our furthered relationship, but I'm sure you were aware of that from the start."

"What."

"I suppose our interactions will degrade into passive-aggressive battles of wit, as well, as we can no longer communicate equally. How unfortunate."

"What."

She smirked. "Silly Strider. How will I ever be comfortable around you, my own brother, when you wear those glasses? I'll always think you're staring at me."

"Why would I stare at you when literally anything else would be more interesting."

"I suppose you'll have to take them off, now, won't you?"

Fuck. It had all been a trap.


	64. Lens 64

**Obscura ~ Age 18**

FUCK OFF.

Dave contemplated the sign for a moment. It could be interpreted many ways, of course, but a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach was telling him to take the route of Occam's razor and assume it meant exactly what he thought. It might even mean _who _he thought. He hoped he was wrong.

Unlocking his own door, Dave entered his own room. He glanced at the door of the washroom he and his roommate would share for the next year and was greeted by another identical, crudely taped slip of paper.

_ What a great fucking start,_ he thought to himself, tossing his duffel bag to the ground.

Not one to intrude, Dave decided to heed the sign's advice (he refused to accept it as a command) and ignore his peer.

But man, it was hard.

Unearthly scratching noises were travelling through the thin walls, punctuated only by various surprisingly creative swears. What the hell was that asshole doing? The scratching sounds stopped suddenly, only to be replaced with the blaring of electric guitars and…8-bit?

Dave threw himself back on the mattress, completely unwilling to exert the effort needed to pull sheets over it. With any luck, he'd be told by an apologetic don that there had been a mistake, that this was the wrong room.

That he wasn't the roommate of a raging douchebag.

Fuck.


	65. Lens 65

**Obscura ~ Age 17**

Dave staggered into the kitchen, blindly reaching for the handle of the fridge. Fuck lights. Lights were for losers. He yanked it open and peered dimly at the contents for a minute. Swords, swords, puppet, bottle of water. Dave reached carefully between the blades to retrieve the water. Success!

Unscrewing the bottle, Dave spun on his heel to return to the couch.

"Holy fuck, Harley, what the hell," he said, hand slipping on the bottle. He managed to tighten his grip before it fell to the floor, but a good amount slopped down his shirt. "Jegus, you scared the hell out of me."

"Sorry, Dave!" she said, looking up.

"What the hell are you even doing there, it's like four a.m. Shouldn't you be off having weirdass lucid dreams or something about now."

She laughed. "Yeah, totally! But I couldn't really get to sleep."

Dave shut the fridge and leaned on the door. "Can't sleep in new places that well or what."

"Something like that," she replied. "Sorry I startled you."

"It was pretty fucking creepy. With your hair all messy like that, you look like that chick from that fucking horror movie."

"Dave! I hope I don't look _that_ scary!"

"Nah, I guess you're too silly for that." He gulped down some water.

She pursed her lips. "That's rude."

"It's a fucking compliment."

"I guess that's okay, then." Jade traced invisible pictures on the kitchen table for a minute. "Are you sure it's okay that I stay here tonight?"

"What. Yeah, it's fine. Why wouldn't it be."

"I don't know. I wasn't sure how your brother would react…"

"Seriously. I'm surprised he didn't ask you to sleep with him, the perv."

"Dave! That's not nice!"

"Yeah, well, neither is he. Especially when there are cute girls involved."

Silence.

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,_ thought Dave. _Fuck._ Definitely the wrong thing to say. He had fucked up royally this time.

"You think I'm cute?"

"Uh, well, yeah. In a derpy sort of way, right." Dave fumbled with his shades, feeling the heat rise in his face. "I mean, uh, like hippie chicks and…stuff."

"That's…kind of mean."

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._

"Shit. No. That's what I meant. You're, uh, the silly kind of cute. Quirky."

"So the kind that never gets a boyfriend, huh."

"Yeah. Shit, no. No, no, no, that's not what I meant. I mishear—fuck."

To Dave's surprise, Jade suddenly began to giggle. "Wow, Rose is right. You're really fun to tease!"

"Fuck, that was a joke. Dammit, Harley, you were freaking me out. I was ready to flip my shit like a fucking weasel, that's how freaked out I was."

"I'm sorry. Rose just said to—never mind."

"You can't do that. You can't just suddenly start a sentence like that and not finish it. Fuck, Harley. Go to bed."

Sighing, Jade stood. "I suppose I should try…"

"Yeah, man. Have good fucking dreams and all that. And _don't talk to Rose_, she fucking has it in for me. She lives off of my suffering, man. My pain _fuels_ her."

"Don't say that. She's your sister, after all. You only have one!" Jade replied.

"Fuck. Night, Harley." With that, Dave downed the rest of the water and left the room.

"Good night, Dave..."


	66. Lens 66

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Three days later, Bro still hadn't appeared. Dave couldn't decide whether he was just pulling some ninja shit and hiding whenever Dave approached, or if he had fully left the apartment. Either way, he didn't care. He was done with caring.

So Dave slumped on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Shitty anime blared on the TV, but Dave didn't bother to change it. The clock struck 3 a.m. and he didn't move. The disc had restarted thirteen times that day. Disc four.

Four-One-Three.

Dave slammed his fist against the arm of the couch and shoved himself to his feet. He slapped the TV off and strode to his room, slamming the door behind him.

_What the hell was wrong with him?_

He threw himself onto the bed and lay there motionless, face pressed against the sheets.

_Fuck everything_.

The apartment was hot. _Unbearably _hot. It was always hot, making his clothes cling to his skin and sweat run down his back. He used to like the heat. This was something else. This was like the game.

Dave snorted. It was like the game, it _was_ the game. What if he had never left? What if this was just another level?

And what if it wasn't?

He wasn't doing so well at life 2.0. A few weeks and he had already fucked up impressively. His friends were gone, Bro was gone, and at this rate, his sanity would be gone, too.

Who was he kidding? He had passed that boundary long ago.

Dave pulled off his shades and tossed them across the room. They bounced off a wall and to the floor. The unbroken lenses glinted up at him, mocking him. Fucking shades. What was he doing? This was stupid.

A hand on his back, a shift in weight.

A sharp intake in breath. "Wha—"

"Chill. It's just me, dumpass."

Dave's panic faded and he collapsed against the mattress again. "You're back."

"I didn't leave."

"Fucking fantastic. I hope you have food."

"I don't know, you seemed to do pretty well feeding yourself while I was gone."

"You just said you didn't leave."

"I didn't. That doesn't mean I can't be gone, does it?"

"You're a fucking idiot."

"Yeah." Bro grinned, leaning back. "Yeah."


	67. Lens 67

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

"To be honest, I didn't think you knew how to cook."

"I'm a fucking master. It is an art and I am the artist getting his creativity on. I can cook circles around those iron chef assholes. My stew is like eating the nectar of the fucking gods."

"Really? I thought you said you lived off of cup noodles for a year."

Dave paused, ladle still poised above the pot. "Yeah, well. That too."

"Is that what inspired you to cook, then?"

"No." He resumed stirring. Dave never cooked. Dave hated cooking. Every time he made a dish, Bro would bitch and moan about how it wasn't spicy enough. Then they'd argue and somehow end up in a shitty hashrap battle and Dave would inevitably lose. Dave always lost.

This was different, though. Even if it turned out awful, Jade would probably lie and say it was amazing. Hell, it might not even be a lie. She might actually _genuinely_ like it. Knowing her, her sense of taste was probably all out of whack from years of eating irradiated steak or whatever the hell she made herself.

"Are you going to let go of me anytime soon," Dave asked, glancing behind him.

She squeezed her arms tighter around his waist. "Sorry, Dave. I know you don't really like being touched. I just had to, um, tr-"

"Yeah. I, uh, get it. Don't worry. Do what you want."

"It's good to know that even the great Dave Strider gets flustered," she said. He felt her press her cheek against his back. He tensed.

_Calm down, asshole_, he told himself. _She's been alone on this gogdamn island for who knows how long with no one to talk to except the fucking internet with all its trolls and assholes. Suck it up. Stop being such a fucking pussy._

"Yeah, well. I'm human," he replied, turning the burner on.

"I know…" Shit, shit, shit, shit. What just happened? Jade's tone had changed and he could feel her trembling against him.

"Harley."

"I'm sorry, Dave, I—I forgot something upstairs, I—" She released him suddenly, turning to run.

"Harley, chill." He grabbed her wrist before she could escape. "What's wrong."

"Nothing, don't worry," she said, laughing shakily. "I just—forgot something I—had to do!"

"I thought I told you to stop lying. Come on. You can tell me. I'm a total prick, yeah, but hey—I might understand."

"No, I…you're not… Dammit, Dave, let go!"

"No."

"Dave, you're hurting me!"

"And you're trying to run away."

Sighing, Jade stopped trying to wrench her arm away. Her shoulders drooped. "Dave, I…I can't do this. I'm sorry. You came all the way here but I…"

"Do what."

"I can't—I can't be with you!"

"I…what."

"When I'm with you, I think of…"

"Of what."

"I think of what I did to you!"

"What did you do to me."

"I got you killed! I—I shot at Bec Noir!"

"That's not your fault."

"I knew what he could do, Dave, this is my fault!"

Dave pulled her sharply and she stumbled forward. Embracing her carefully, he said, "It's not your fault."

"It's my fault!"

"It's not your fault."  
>"It's—"<p>

"Harley, listen to me. It's not your fucking fault. Besides, I'm perfectly fucking fine now." He leaned back against the counter. Gently, he took her hand and pressed it to his chest. "See? Heartbeat. Totally alive. I am the fucking polar opposite of dead."

"You don't understand," she sobbed, wiping her tears with her free sleeve. "I—I can't help it. Every time I hold you, it's like I'm holding _past_ you, the you with all the blood and all the bullets and—"

"Yeah. I never wanted you to see that, Harley."

She took a deep breath. "Did it happen to you a lot? Seeing yourself like…that?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Sometimes, I guess."

"Do you have…dreams about it?"

"Harley, I'm not here for me. I'm here for you, okay. Jegus."

"Dave, I'm not—I'm not important, don't worry about me, okay? Just worry about yourself."

"Fuck, you are just like Egbert, aren't you."

"What?"

"Stop with all the saintly bullshit. Sacrificing yourself for us isn't _just_, it's fucking stupid. Or do you think we're idiots for worrying."

"I don't want people to worry about me!" Jade shouted. "Don't pity me!"

Dave snorted. "Pity you. Jegus, Harley, is that what you think. I'm here because I fucking care about you. We all do. And as hard as it is for me to say, none of us can get through this alone. Lalonde can't, Egbert can't and you sure as hell can't."

"What about you?"

"Does it fucking matter."

"You said no one can make it through this alone, Dave. I want to know about you."

"I'm fucking perfect."

"You're such a hypocrite!" Jade thudded her fists against his chest. "You're such an idiot! Stupid! You dumbass!"

"Fuck, ow, Harley, look. I—I've never been good at this. I can't."

"Well, I can't, either!"

"No, you don't get it. Fuck. I was like this even before the fucking game."

"You said we can't make it through alone!"

"Jegus, you're so persistent. Look. Fuck." The suffocating feeling had already risen to his throat, burning his chest and choking his words. He knew what he was going to do. He just wasn't sure if he was ready. "Harley, I've been alone forever."

"So have I! I live with my dead grandpa and a dog, Dave! At least you have a brother! At least you live in a city with actual _people_! You don't live on an island in the middle of the fucking ocean an—"

"No. You don't understand," he breathed. "Fuck. I can't explain it."

"It's fine, Dave. You don't have to." She stepped back, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Look, I just… You know I haven't been sleeping well. I'm not myself. Dave, I'm really sorry."

"I can't explain it," he repeated, "but I can show you."

"What do you mean?"

"Harley, don't freak out."

"What? Dave, you're scaring me."

"Save that for after, Jegus." He took her hands in his and pulled them to the arms of his glasses. "It'll deplete your fucking freak-out reservoir."

"Dave…? Are you…are you really…?"

He bit his lip to keep from shaking. "Yeah," he muttered through gritted teeth. He dropped her hands and closed his eyes.

Jade said nothing. She just slid the shades from his face, looking up in silent anticipation.

But Dave had lost his nerve. He stood there, still biting his lip, eyes screwed shut. He didn't want to move. He felt numb. What the hell had he done? Jade was plenty frightened as it was. She didn't need his stupid demon eyes complicating the matter.

"Dave…?" Jade said at last. He flinched. "It's okay, Dave. You…you don't have to do this. I…I understand."

"No."

"Are you sure?" Jade set the glasses on the counter.

"Yeah, just…just give me a fucking minute here. I am flipping all kinds of shit. I am an army of fucking weasels and—"

She reached up and slapped him gently on the cheeks. "Focus."

Startled, Dave clenched his teeth and opened his eyes.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. He felt the blood drain from his face and looked away, only vaguely aware of the coppery taste spreading through his mouth. "I guess…now you get it, right."

"Dave!" she exclaimed.

He grimaced, shutting his eyes tight. There it was. She would never be able to look at him again. He was the fucking Karkat of the humans, the asshole that—

"You're bleeding!"

Dave blinked. "Wait. What."

"Dave, you're bleeding! Oh my gosh!"

"It's fine." Dave brushed his mouth with the back of his hand, streaking red across his skin. Fuck. That's what he got for doing something so obviously stupid.

"It's not fine! I…I…" She gripped his shirt. "This is my fault," she whispered.

"Harley, don't be fucking stupid. I am the dumbass here. It is me."

"This is my fault," she repeated. "This is—"

This was going nowhere. "Okay, yeah. It's all your fucking fault, Harley. Totally your fault."

She turned her face to him, pale and horrified. "Dave, I'm so sor—"

"And because it's your fault, it's your job to fix this, isn't it."

"What?"

He gave a short laugh. "Dumbass."

"Dave, I don't understand."

"Want me to give you some tips." He leaned forward.

"What?" she stared up at him, bewildered. His mouth twitched into a small, reassuring smile. It felt foreign on his face, but not entirely unpleasant.

"Jegus, get a fucking pen."

"What? Dave, I seriously don't—"

And then he kissed her.


	68. SNOP

**Obsfura ~ Aeg WHO WANTS 2 NO?**

Daev sat at hiss tuntabels an loooked at da cluck.

'OH no?" he sed "I am leat for teh meetin?

Pleez Jaed wil u mrry meeee?" he akzed so fuckin naicely u dont even kno!

"Stutid assturd" sed John "she is wit the COWWWW"

"' sed dave 'fcuk y is she wit cwoww?"

'dont denie der loooooveeeeeee" wihpsered John sezily. "it is okei i wil bruss ur heir wipser to u in chineze at nite!"

"O then tat is O.K.!" sed dave n den tehy had lutz of fun slepovers

But ten! Roes wuz all liek "JOhn no whyyyyyyyyy?"

"Ist okk Ruze the chineze was a dickstrashun! I am urss see look I but u a wedddin ring?" Juhn piked up a ruler to meshur the ring it wuz soooooooo biiiiiiig!

But Daev cryed meny singel emo tears. ' i will go to tererezi she wil luv me?"

but den a bunsh of meateors exploded and it wuz erevyone's fault! Epsecully Enoby beecuz she wuz 2 gofik teh wurld jus culdnt handal it. Also Subrb. N sum trols?

WAT WILL HAPENS NEST?

WAT WIL HUPPENS NETX?

WHAT

WULL

HIPEN

NEKTS?

An den erey1 lived hapy ever efter.

TEH END

(OR IS IT? DUN DUN DUN)

**UNSNOP**


	69. Lens 69

**Obscura ~ Age -1**

"You're late."

"I'm fucking right on time."

"Oh, really? Because I think the clock says _you_ just bought me dinner." Verity snapped her purse shut and leaned back, crossing her legs and grinning pointedly. "Or will you deny a poor injured girl her shitty hamburger?"

"What is it with you and fucking hamburgers? Eat something else and maybe you'll get better." Strider slid into the cushiony seat across from her in the booth. "These diners are terrible."

"I do _not_ have a thing for hamburgers," Verity snapped. "I have a thing for _meat_. There is a difference! Besides," she added, narrowing her eyes, "don't you practically live off of cup noodles?"

"I will admit to none of these baseless accusations!" Strider replied.

"Shades, you're a shitty liar."

"And you're a shitty manipulative bitch."

"Whoa, whoa. Hey. Back it up. Are you saying I'm shitty _and_ a manipulative bitch? Because then I'm totally okay with that. But I am not shitty at _being_ a manipulative bitch."

"Prove it."

She grinned and leaned across the table. Obligingly, Strider followed suit. Verity pushed her lips against his. She pressed her hands to his shoulders, his arms, sliding down his chest, until—

"You just slipped me the fucking bill, didn't you?" Strider said, breaking contact and pulling the slip of paper from his breast pocket.

"Of course," she replied, sitting back. "I always get what I want."

"And you want me to pay for your disproportionately huge appetite? I see how it is."

"Obviously." She tapped the table with her painted nails and fluttered her eyelashes. "Besides, you owe me this."

Strider snorted. "Do I?"

"I told you last show that if I got three encores, you'd have to buy me dinner."

"I don't remember agreeing to that."

"And yet, here we are." Verity flagged down the waitress and ordered her food.

Strider waved his hand. "Just a water."

"Oh? A big manly man like you with just a _water_?"

"Hey, man. We aren't all the popular bitch, you know."

She pursed her lips. "Just wait, Shades. It'll happen."

"Because you're such a good judge of these things?"

She shook her head and ran her fingers through her long, wild hair. "I don't think you really understand just how much I influence things."

"And how much is that, exactly?"

She walked her fingers across the table, up his chest and to his chin, then slapped him in the face. "If you have to ask, it means you have no idea of what I'm capable of."

He grinned. "Prove it."

"Fine. I will. But you'd better buy me a _mountain_ of excellently barbequed meats when I do."

"It's a date."


	70. Lens 70

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

The wall clock ticked audibly, echoing throughout the room.

Dave sat beside Bro on the bed, neither of them speaking. They just sat and waited. Bro waited for Dave to speak. Dave waited for the clock to stop ticking.

"Look, man…" Bro said at last. "I know it's rough right now, but…"

"But what," Dave mumbled into his sleeve. His legs were tucked to his chest, face buried in his arms.

"Well, I guess I can't say it gets better, can I? I don't know that. But you'll get through it, man. I'm here. Just talk to me, bro. I know I'm pretty shitty at—well—_this_, and I know you're, if anything, _worse_, but… Shit, man. Don't make me worry."

"Don't worry about me."

Bro snorted. He reached over and punched Dave lightly in the side of the head. Dave grunted. "Someone has to. It's not like you're doing it."

"The fuck are you talking about."

"You're worried about them, right?" Bro sighed. "It's cool, man. I would, too. Hell, I _do_. They're your friends, aren't they?"

"This is stupid."

"Yeah." Bro rubbed his brother's back. "Really stupid. But dude, please. Talk to me."

"Don't worry about me," Dave repeated, uncomfortable. Bro's sympathy just made it worse. It felt like pity. His chest felt constricted.

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to fucking do that. Choose something else."

"Go away."

"Again?"

"Shit. No. Don't go." Dave buried his face deeper, the cool glass of his shades pressed hard to his face.

"You can talk to me."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Can't." The hairs on the back of Dave's neck prickled and he knew Bro was watching him carefully. He decided to go for misdirection. It rarely worked, but, hey, he was desperate. "Did you have any, uh, girlfriends before I came along."

"What?" Bro stopped patting Dave's back abruptly. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Are you fucking deaf. I said, did you have any girlfriends before I came along."

"Like before I picked you up?"

"Fuck's sake, you're an idiot."

"Of course I didn't have anything like that. You know me! Love 'em and leave 'em! I'd be horrible tied down to one broad, man." He paused. "You don't have to follow my fucking example, though."

"Oh really."

"Yeah. You be a good bro and treat your chicks nice, you hear me?"

"So you _really_ never had any relationships before me."

"Like a fucking virgin. It's all for you, babe. All of it."

Dave shuddered. "There is definitely a better way to phrase that."

Bro grinned. "You started this, not me. Why are you asking all of this shit, anyway? It seems kind of sudden."

Dave pulled his head up a little, a single red eye visible behind his skewed glasses. "Well, your definitely-not-ex-girlfriend came to visit while you were away."

Bro was visibly shocked. It was probably the first time Dave had seen him make that expression—_ever_. "Shit. Oh shit."

"Yeah."


	71. Lens 71

**Obscura ~ Age 18**

Dave gripped the leather of the couch, casting a sidelong glance at his friend. John still looked pale and a little shakey, but he seemed steadier now. Dave looked back at the coffee table. Knowing John, it probably wouldn't last long.

Dave didn't know where to begin. "Egbert…"

John was slumped on the couch, twisting a finger in his shirt. "What?"

Shit. Shit. What was he supposed to say now? "Egbert, talk to me. About…about anything, you know… We don't have to start big, but… Shit, man."

John gave a defeated sigh. "I am so bad at this, Dave. I know this hard for you, but I don't…I've never talked about it. I don't even know what starting small is."

He shrugged. Dave had only ever made passing remarks about the game—he didn't know what _small_ was supposed to mean, himself. He had hoped John would. Apparently not. "Then start wherever you want, man. Whatever's best for you."

"I guess…you know, I didn't always freak over the game and stuff. I was fine when we got back. And I just…sort of lost that. I just didn't want you guys to worry about me, I guess. But I was also scared of what you'd think."

Dave awkwardly reached over and punched him gently in the arm. "Don't be stupid. You're our lil bro, man. We never expected something like this _not_ to happen to you. Fuck, it was almost worrying when you never really said anything. Remember what you said, you little asshole. You're our _friend_, not our _leader_. You don't have to pretend everything is fucking fine if it's not."

John squeezed his eyes shut. "But it shouldn't have happened. I was… I was fine and I just… I feel so awful, Dave. I knew I could talk to you, but I never could bring myself to admit I was just as screwed up. I mean, you all talked to me, so I thought that maybe I was just supposed to always be the strong one."

"Yeah, well, don't. Jegus, Egbert. We're your friends. It's not fair if you're the only one going it alone. For fuck's sake, you've done enough already. You're the one that had to clean up all of messes, then _and_ now." He snorted. "Let someone else be the hero for once."

"Can't really be a vomiting hero," John murmured. He wiped his hands on his pants, feeling his heart start to pound. He took a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm just a bit at a loss of how to say things. I'm not used to this."

"Take your time." Dave leaned back on the couch. His face still felt uncomfortably bare. He wanted to get his shades. He didn't know where to look without them on. Dave was used to hiding behind the tinted glass. Normally he'd probably be staring straight at John, judging his reactions carefully, deciding how to act. But he couldn't now.

John nodded, but the feeling of nausea returned all the same. He waited a few moments, but got to his feet. "I gotta puke."

"Want me to, uh, come with you," Dave offered, unsure.

John gave him a lopsided smile. "Nope." He stumbled his way back towards the washroom.

Dave shifted on the couch. _Shit_, he thought, _stop squirming. You're not a fucking kid._ He shoved his hands between his knees to keep from fidgeting any further.

John stumbled back into the room, flopping down next to Dave. "Can you get me like, a damp cloth? I feel like shit."

"Yeah, sure." Dave jumped at the chance for something to do. He strode from the room and fetched a washcloth, drenched it, wrung it out and hurried back. "Here, man," he said, sitting down tentatively on the couch.

"Mm, thanks." John slidhis glasses on his shirt, pressing the cloth over his eyes. "I hate puking."

Dave didn't know what to say but, "Sorry."

"Not your fault." John took a deep breath again, feeling his chest hurt. "Honestly, right now I'm scared to go back and see Dad. I just kinda left a note saying I was going to your place. I am just a fucking idiot."

Dave shrugged. "Nah, you were just scared, man." He sighed. "You'll have to face him eventually, though." He gave an odd, barking laugh. "But I'm not going to make you. Stay here as long as you need."

"I have school I'm skipping, too. Fuck, sometimes I just don't care about school. Or like, anything down the line. It feels like it doesn't even matter."

"Well," Dave reasoned. "It's not like you'd learn much in this position anyway, right. It's probably better if you take a step back for a bit, you know." He stared up at the ceiling. "When I came back, I never wanted to touch a turntable again. I just forced myself to do it, anyway. Things come back, man. Don't give up." He glanced over. "'Sides, you're on a different schedule than us. Just take it at your own pace."

"I don't have my own pace, Dave. That's the problem. My pace has been non existent for like, three years, and now I just puke and other things." John groaned, sitting forward. The cloth fell into his lap. "I just…thanks for understanding."

"That's still a pace, man. Eighteen bars of rests doesn't mean you won't play anything after. Maybe you'll get a fucking solo." Dave pinched his nose. "No, shit, that was stupid. Just…just don't beat yourself up over it. I know it's tough, but… I mean… I think it's normal to never react at all, right."

"It doesn't feel normal," John muttered. "I don't even know what else to say."

Hesitantly, Dave reached over and put a hand on John's back. "Listen, man… I know it's shit now, but don't give up." He shook his head slowly. "I can't even imagine what that must've felt like, only feeling that way later. I'm sorry, man. It's not your fault."

"It was just…scary." John shuffled in his seat. His vision blurred a little. "And it feels a lot like it's my fault. Like I'm not strong enough anymore. I can't deal with it like you guys and I can't be normal."

"Jegus… Egbert, look. I know it feels like that, but it really isn't. Fuck, man, we're all weak. That's just how it is. We just happen to have more experience at it than you now. Obviously. We've been doing it longer. It's not about being normal. It's about being fucking _human_, which is what you are. You can't be a god forever."

John nodded, turning to look over at Dave. His vision swam and he instantly regretted it. "Dave, I—"

He slumped forward, crashing off the couch.

"Fuck!" Dave lunged forward and grabbed John by the shoulders before he hit the coffee table. He slipped off the couch himself and landed hard on the floor, still holding John precariously away from the table with one hand. "Fuck," he said again, turning back. He slapped John's cheek. "Fuck, Egbert, wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Egbert, what do I do. Shit. What do I do. Jegus. What do I do, fuck, fuck, fuck." He shuffled backwards on his knees, slowly lowering John to the floor. "Shit, Egbert, Jegus, fuck."

He stared at John, mind numb. Should he move the coffee table? The gap between it and the couch was pretty narrow. Dave sprang up and began hauling the table across the room, carefully avoiding John as he went. Shit, that was done. What now? He glanced back at John. Still unconscious.

"Shit, Egbert, are you dead. Tell me you aren't dead. Are you—no, you're breathing. Shit. What do I do. Egbert, what do I do." He went over and straightened John's position. There. That should help, right?

_Right_?

John groaned slightly, opening his eyes. He blinked a few times. "Argh, haven't fainted in a while," he muttered.

"Fuck, Egbert," Dave said through gritted teeth, clutching a handful of his friend's shirt. "You scared the hell out of me." His shoulders shook. "Fuck."

"I'm not going to just keel over dead, Dave. Sorry, I faint 'cause I don't eat and cause I get stressed…. Hey, are you alright? Look, if you wanna cry, man, lemme sit up…"

"Fuck you. I am not going to cry," Dave snapped, pushing himself back on to the couch. "And start eating better. I don't need you fainting on me again."

John gave a small smile, pushing himself up on his elbows. "You look pretty upset."

Dave looked away. He desperately wanted his shades back. "Fuck you. You nearly gave me a heart attack, you prick."

John hauled himself up onto the couch, feeling himself grin. "C'mon, Dave, I think a hug is in order."

"No. Don't fucking touch me. Piss off," Dave growled. "Douchebag."

"Alright. I guess that's a bit much to ask, huh?" He laughed, but it made his vision swim again. He grabbed Dave's arm. "Shit. Shit because Dad is so right, this is ruining my life."

"Jegus, I'll give you the fucking the hug." Dave wrapped his arms around John, patting him awkwardly on the back. "Yeah, it is. It's ruining all our lives. But it's _not your fault_. He can blame us, too, but I don't even think that's it. It's the fucking _game's_ fault, but we can't do anything about it. Listen to me, Egbert, you aren't alone."

"…You're really good at this, Dave," John said quietly. He leaned forward a bit, trying to get rid of his dizzy spell. "Thanks."

"You'd better believe it. I learned from the fucking _best._"

"The ultimate coolkid portfolio is yours."

"Yeah, I'm a fucking genius," Dave replied. "Now just close your eyes and breathe before you pass out and I flip the fuck out _again_."

"I know. I'm not gonna pass out. Probably." He closed his eyes, resting on Dave's shoulder. "Are you gonna be mad if I tell Rose about this?"

"Nah, go ahead. I'm pretty used to her snarky comments by now."

"Dave? Is everyone else worried about me, too?"

"Of course they are, dumbass. You're our fucking friend."

"…Sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just tell us when something's wrong, okay."

John nodded mutely. "I did come to see you."

"I know." Dave smiled slightly. "You did well, man. Good job. I'm glad."

"Thanks for being my brother."

"No problem." He shifted uncomfortably. "Just returning the favour."

"I…thanks. I really…this means a lot, Dave."

Dave reached up and ruffled John's hair. "It's cool, man. I get it. Don't worry."

John shifted back a bit, rubbing at his eyes. "I feel like shit, but I need some food. What's left?"

"Swords, smuppets and burritos."

"Man, get me some smuppets. Delicious, delicious porny smuppets."

"I love you man, but not that fucking much. I wouldn't touch one of those with a ten foot pole if I could fucking help it."

John gave a small laugh. "Seriously. Get me food right now or I am passing out all over your couch."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." Dave went to the kitchen and slapped a burrito in the microwave for a minute. He poured a glass of milk in the time it took to heat up, then flicked the food onto a plate and brought both out for John. "And he said, 'Let them eat shitty pseudo-food and be merry.'"

"There's a high chance it's gonna end up in your toilet, man. I just need to eat." John took the plate and cup, pulling the coffee table back with a foot. "You should eat too, man."

Dave shrugged. "At least we tried. Nah, I'm good. Worry about yourself."

"M'not gonna stop worrying 'bout you," John said through a mouthful of burrito. He swallowed and took a drink. "I think I'm gonna spend the night again, though. Don't think I can go home yet."

"Yeah, that's fine. I'm not about to kick you out, man. Stay as long as you want."

"Okay!"

Maybe it wasn't so bad without his glasses.


	72. Lens 72

**Obscura ~ Age 0**

_If you miss this, I'll never forgive you._

He wasn't sure what compelled him to go shopping before the concert that day. It wasn't like he'd ever had the urge before. Then again, you could never have too many sunglasses.

Grinning, Strider picked up a tiny pair of pointy shades. At least the manufacturers were thinking of the youth of tomorrow. With a pair of shades like these, any youngster would grow up right. Hell, if it worked for him, why not others?

He bought them on a whim with the last crumpled bill in his back pocket. He wasn't sure why—maybe he could give it to whichever kid he deemed most deserving. Maybe he'd become that kid's mentor, even. He would make a badass mentor. Yoda would have nothing on him.

Slipping the shades into his pocket, he paused. No, that was blasphemy. Yoda was fucking _fantastic._

Strider glanced at his watch. There was still time before he had to leave for the concert. He could check his favourite record store down the street, then head on to the venue. He might even arrive fashionably _early_.

Halfway to the vinyl shop, he stopped to look at the amp display in a nearby store. He had been thinking about getting a new amp—his old one was, well, _old_. He wasn't exactly rich, but he had scraped enough cash to get by through performing various gigs. Nothing serious, but he was slowly starting to get more popular. Flashstepping was a rare talent, after all.

_KRAAK-KSHSHHH._

An explosion rocked the street. Strider stumbled back a step, feeling the vibrations travel through the pavement and up his legs. Sparks rained down like snowflakes and his ears rang. Gripped by curiosity, he leaned out into the street.

Holy fuck.

His favourite record store was now a smoking hole in the ground.

Well, shit.

Strider made his way to the edge of the crater. Why was no one else on the street? He was pretty sure that meteors raining from the sky meant nap time was over.

Except Strider wasn't alone. He stared down into the hole and it stared back up. Was that a fucking _baby_?

But damn, if that kid didn't have style.

Their eyes met once more. Strider felt around in his pocket and withdrew the shades. If anyone deserved them, it was this kid. His little demon peepers struck a chord with Strider, though he'd never admit it. The more he watched the little alien, the more he liked him.

"Where's your dad, little guy?" Strider called down.

The baby glared at him. A little tyke after his very own heart.

Strider slid down the rocky side of the hill, coming to a halt beside the kid. He picked him up with one hand, grinning as he put the pointy shades on the baby with the other. Fucking _perfect_. This was a masterpiece.

As he pulled his hand away, the baby tried to bite him. Damn. He liked the kid even _more_. He had _spunk_.

"Well, E.T. Until we find your twiggy green parents, why don't you come home with me?" Strider found himself saying. He couldn't help it. He was Jonathon fucking Kent.

No, that was lame. He decided that he was Yoda after all. Much better. The force was strong in this one, after all.

Strider never made it to the concert.


	73. Lens 73

**Obscura ~ Age 17**

He awoke to the feel of hairs prickling at the back of his neck. It took only half a second to realize why.

"Harley, holy shit, what the hell are you doing," he said, staring up at her.

"O-oh, you're awake? Sorry, Dave! I hope I wasn't too loud," she said, still leaning over him. His nose twitched, her long hair tickling it. She was pretty fucking close for comfort.

"Jegus, you scared the shit out of me. What are you even doing. Why aren't you in bed, it's like five fucking a.m. I thought you went to bed already. Did you get lost on the way to the bathroom or something. It's not that hard, there are only like four fucking doors."

"No, I—I mean, yes. I got lost." She giggled. "Silly, isn't it? I'm sorry. I'm not very good at navigating new places in the dark."

Dave sat up, raking his fingers through his hair, still trying to coax his brain into alert consciousness. "Guess I can't blame you. The apartment is filled with crap, you probably didn't want to trip on a fucking smuppet or some shit."

"And what if I tripped on one of your super expensive music materials? That'd be horrible!" she laughed.

"Damn straight." Dave stretched the muscles in his shoulders. The couch was reasonably comfortable, but he'd probably be stiff the next morning. "So do you want me to hold your fucking hand or something, take you to the bathroom like the loyal devilbeast that I am."

"Yes, please!" she replied cheerfully.

Dave slid his legs off the couch and stood up. His blanket fell in a heap on the floor, but he didn't feel like picking it up. He held out a hand. "Well. Are you coming or not."

She slipped her hand into his, giving it a squeeze. "Lead on, my bespectacled seeing-eye dog!"

"Yeah, yeah." Dave escorted her through the living room, around the piles of questionable paraphenelia Bro left lying around. She had moved to clutch his arm tight to her chest, giving him an awkwardly short gap to walk. He shifted uncomfortably, coughing into his free hand. "It's here. That wasn't hard, was it."

"I don't know, there were some pretty weird looking puppets back—"

"Don't worry about those," Dave said quickly. "Don't look at them. Don't even fucking _think_ about them or you'll have nightmares for decades."

Jade laughed. "Thanks, Dave."

"Just go piss or whatever, Jegus." He gave her a little push toward the door.

"I'm going, I'm going," she said.

As soon as Jade disappeared behind the door, Dave left for the kitchen. Might as well get another drink if he was up, he reasoned.

Minutes passed. What the hell was she doing? Did girls normally take this long? Did she fall in?

The door opened and Dave loped back. "What the hell were—"

"Sorry! There was a funny magazine in there, I wanted to finish the article."

Dave didn't want to ask. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get you back to bed, Harley, or you'll never get up tomorrow."

"Sorry! Jet lag and all that." She chuckled.

"Staying up will only make it worse, man." He hooked his arm around hers and pulled her back to the entrance to his room. "Sweet dreams and all that, man."

"Wait!" Jade grabbed his wrist as he turned to leave.

"What."

"I—sorry, I just—I—"

Dave stifled a yawn. It was too late to be trying to manoeuvring the enigmatic labyrinth that was the female mind. "Spit it out."

"Dave, I…" She couldn't seem to get the words out.

"Come on, I don't bite. Just say whatever you want to say."

"I think you'll misunderstand," she said at length.

"Try me."

Jade bit her lip, looking up at him worriedly. "Dave, will you sleep with me?"

How the hell was he supposed to answer _that_? "Uh. What."

"Not like that!" she said immediately. "Geez, Dave, get your mind out of the gutter! You know I'm—I'm not like that!"

He scratched his head. "No shit. I just. What."

She lowered her head, face obscured by the sheets of dark hair falling across it. "Please don't ask. Can you just…you know…do it as a favour?"

Dave didn't know what to think. "Uh. I guess so. What do you want me to, uh, do."

"Nothing! I just want you to, you know, sleep beside me."

"If you're cold, we have extra blankets, man."

"No, I'm not cold."

"Don't you have the devilbeast for that sort of thing."

She wrapped her arms around her body. "I…I told you not to ask."

"Right." He glanced around the room. Jegus. Way to spring a loaded question, Harley. "It's just hard to understand, you know. I don't really get it."

"You don't have to," she assured. "Geez! And I thought you and John have sleepovers all the time! You've slept with him, right? Just pretend I'm John."

Dave shuddered. "I'd really rather not."

Jade let out a long sigh. "I understand if you don't want to. It's okay! You can go back to the couch. Have a nice night, Dave."

"What, no. Ugh, just—just stop this." Dave reached over and put a hand on the top of her head. "I'll do whatever you want. Just go to bed. I'll be there in a second."

"Thanks, Dave! You're the coolest."

Dave returned to the living room, picking his blanket up from the floor. He paused there for a minute, looking down at his hand. His mouth twitched into a slight, worried frown.

She had been shaking.


	74. Lens 74

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

Dave's face burned. He was unusually aware of his hands.

"Fuck, stop that," he said at last, pushing Teresa away.

"I don't know. It seemed like you were enjoying it." She grinned.

"You have a boyfriend. Fuck off."

She frowned. "I was only trying to cheer you up! You were getting so tense. I thought I would diffuse the situation." She chuckled.

"Yeah, well, fucking stop it." He pulled at his shirt. His chest felt hot and tight. Why was she doing this?

"Does it not feel good?"

"Piss off." Dave spun on his heel, going to leave.

Teresa reached out and clawed his back, trying to grasp his shirt. "Don't get all upset."

"Seriously," Dave said, grabbing her wrist and wrenching his shirt from her grasp. "Stop it."

"Okay! I get it, I get it. Jegus, I was just trying to help."

He froze. "What did you just say?"

"See, you're doing it again." Teresa pressed her hands to his chest, cocking her head to the side. "Just close your eyes and breathe."

Hesitantly, he obeyed. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, his neck, his face. She smoothed back his hair, holding a hand against his forehead. Her eyebrows creased in worry. "You're pretty warm. Maybe I will let you off the hook for tonight."

Dave pushed her hand away. "Look. Just. I'll walk you home."

"No, it is okay. I will call the grumpy one." She grinned, flipping open a cell phone. Pressing the voice command button, she stated, "Call 'Douchebag'."

Dave ran her fingers through his hair. "I guess you're set, then."

Teresa held her hand over the receiver. "Yes, I am good. Go home and get some rest. You are no fun if you are dead." She grinned. "Hello to you, too, idiot! Hmm? Why would the time matter? You are so cryptic sometimes! Anyway, I need you to do something for—What? You'd make a poor blind girl walk home? _Alone_? That is dangerous! Yes! It is dangerous! No, I will not accept that. Come here. Yes. Come here. Thank you, Dummy!" She flicked the phone closed. "All set."

"You sure."

"Hehehe. Do not worry. He is an idiot, but he is reliable. Just go home!"

"Yeah…" Dave replied. "Thanks, I guess."

"Have fun."

"You…you too."


	75. Lens 75

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

Jade punched him in the face.

Caught off guard, Dave fell into the counter and crumpled to the floor. "Okay, that is not the reaction I was expecting," he said, head still spinning.

Jade seemed just as shocked as he felt. She stared down at her still-clenched fist as though not totally sure it was her own. "I. Wow. I'm sorry, Dave."

"S'cool," he said, trying to blink the stars from his eyes. "Shouldna done that, I guess."

"It's—it's not your fault."

"Well, yeah. You're the one that punched me." Dave shifted into a crouching position, then stood. "But I started it."

"No, you don't understand." Jade shook her head.

He shrugged. "Then explain it."

"I can't."

He reached out and plucked a long lock of hair from her shoulder. "I think it's more of an _I don't want to_ than an _I can't_, isn't it."

She shivered and glanced up at him. "Dave, I…I can't talk about it. You understand, don't you?" she pleaded.

He watched her for a minute, then released the lock. "Yeah. I do. Trust me, Harley, I do."

"It's—it's not that I don't want to! I—I trust you, Dave, I do!"

He forced a little smile. "I know."

"It's just…I… I don't want to remember, and that…"

Dave patted her head. "Yeah, it's cool. Don't worry."

"It's just the blood," she said. "I…I couldn't help but think…"

"It's fine, Harley. I get it. Seriously." He leaned down to meet her gaze at eye level. "I understand. I'm not blaming you."

She looked away, uncomfortable. "You should."

He snorted. "Why the hell would I."

"I…I want to be able to have fun with you, Dave. I really do! I just…it's getting worse. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do, Dave! It's driving me crazy! What am I supposed to do?"

"Chill, for starters," he replied, cupping her face between his hands. "Just close your eyes and breathe, okay, before you go all manic again. I know you aren't like that. So just calm down and we'll fix this, okay."

Jade put her hands over his and sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. After a few minutes she opened them again, smiling. "Yeah. Thanks, Dave. I feel a little better now."

"Good." Dave stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets. The awkward tightness in his chest didn't seem to be leaving any time soon.

"Um, Dave?" Jade asked hesitantly, smoothing her hair back behind her ear.

"Yeah."

"Is the pot supposed to be boiling over like that?"

"Is the pot suppo—shit, no. No, it's not." Dave spun around and quickly turned off the burner, flicking his hand away before the overflow could fall on him. "Shit. Shit. Sorry, I'll clean that up. Gogdammit."

"It's okay," she giggled. "I'll do it later."

"It'll cake on, I'd better—"

"Maybe I should have said Bec will do it?"

Dave wasn't sure whether he should be disgusted by the thought of the devilbeast licking the stove clean or grateful he wouldn't have to try to navigate her weirdass house to find the necessary supplies. He decided to be indifferent. Cool people were always indifferent. It was a default setting. "Cool."

Jade ladled out two generous portions of stew and they sat on a couch, waiting for the steam to slow. Dave wondered if he had burned it. Probably.

When the food had cooled sufficiently, they ate in silence. Jade didn't complain, so it was either decent enough to be considered edible or she was just too polite to say it tasted like ass. After years of living off of Bro's shitty cooking, Dave couldn't decide which possibility was more likely.

Dave could hear a horrible slurping noise coming from the kitchen. It was probably the damned devilbeast. Damn, he _hoped_ it was the devilbeast. He didn't want to meet whatever monster was making that racket if it wasn't. The snake on the ground floor seemed like a good second bet, though, stuffed or not.

Once they had finished, the two set the empty bowls on the coffee table. Jade rested her head against Dave's shoulder and he shifted accordingly.

"You're still not really okay with this, are you?" she asked, laughing. It sounded forced.

His red eyes flicked down to her. "Neither are you." She pulled her arms close to her body, shrinking back, and he knew he had said the wrong thing. "Shit. No. I know you're trying. It's okay. I get it." He sighed, leaning back and staring up at the high, bizarrely constructed ceiling. "Shit. I'm sorry they sent me, Harley. If we had known it would be so hard—"

"It's not your fault, Dave," she said quickly. "I never…I never said anything. Not even when I slept over a few years ago…"

"Yeah, I remember that. You scared the shit out of me, asking me to sleep with you."

She giggled. "Yeah, you turned really pale. I'm sorry. I was trying to see if I could handle it."

"Could you."

"Not really… I felt pretty sick."

"Is that why you left so fast."

"Yeah. I'm really sorry! I know it was super rude of me." She buried her face in her hands. "I'm really bad at this! I bet I'm saying all sorts of awful things. I'm so sorry!"

"Jegus, chill." He ruffled her hair. "You and Egbert, always apologizing about this shit like it's your fault."

"It is my fau—"

"_It's not your fault_." He pulled her close and their foreheads knocked together. He caught her gaze. "If I told you I felt like shit all the time, you wouldn't say it's my fault, right. Well, it's not yours, either."

"You…you've felt like this, too?" she asked, eyes wide.

Dave snorted and let go of her. "Fuck, way to miss the point."

"Have you?"

"Not like that." He ran his fingers through his hair, unsure of what to say. Fuck. He was bad at this. He needed someone who knew feelings. Hell, someone who could_ talk_ would be good enough. Someone whose own throat didn't try to close up whenever he tried to speak. "Well, maybe a few times. Fuck. I don't know, Harley. It all blurs together in one shitty length of ass."

"Yeah. It does for me, too." She settled in again, clutching his sleeve. "I just want to forget."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I want you to, too."

He leaned over and pressed his lips against her forehead, desperately hoping that maybe this time, he wouldn't get another fist to the face.

He was getting pretty tired of those.


	76. Lens 76

**Obscura ~ Age 10**

"COME TO THE ROOF

PREPARE ACCORDINGLY"

Dave squinted at the note in his hand. What the shit? Had Bro gone off the deep end again? Regardless, he went around the house and crammed his sylladex full of whatever sharp objects he came across. When all his blank cards were occupied, he went to the roof.

"The shit you want," Dave called, looking around.

The door slammed shut. "I'm glad you asked, lil bro!"

"Shit." Dave spun around to see Bro leaning casually against the iron door, grinning.

"Indeed!" Bro replied. "I assume you captchalogued all the necessary parts?"

"What the hell are you going on about."

"Well, considering today marks a full year in which you've had your sylladex, I thought we would play a game."

"Why does this sound so freakishly similar to the plotlines of your horror smuppet porn."

"Because magic, lil bro. _Magic_," Bro said, beaming. "We are going to have a battle of _men_."

"Oh god," said Dave. "Oh god. Oh god. No. I don't want to be in this. I am not going to be one of your actor stand-ins. Oh god. Let me leave."

"No. No. _No_. Why would you—no, never mind." Bro pinched his nose. This wasn't going according to plan. "A _rap_ battle, you stupid ass. _Hashrap_, to be precise."

"So we're going to like, smoke all the weed and then rhyme at each other. Even for you, that sounds fucked up."

"No, dumbass. What kind of sylladex do you use?"

"Hash."

"And me?"

"Uh. The same, isn't it."

"Exactly."

"I see the connection except _not at all_ because this sounds stupid."

"The rules are simple. Use keywords in your rap to launch weapons from your sylladex."

"You're going to kill me, aren't you. This is how I'm going to die."

"No. For fuck's sake, Dave. Just play the fucking game."

"No."

"Okay, _play the game, you little bitch, and I'll unlock the door._"

"Unlock the—shit. You locked us up here. This is totally going to be in one of your movies, isn't it. You're sick. I'm surprised you don't have lil—oh, there he is." Dave caught sight of the blue jersey flapping in the breeze behind his brother.

Lil Cal waved hello. He reluctantly returned the gesture. Lil Cal was totally cool.

Not creepy at all. Not with those huge, staring eyes, nor those long, gangly limbs and _oh god Dave was going to die, he knew it._

"You're slow, dude. I'll start this." Bro slid his hands in his pockets and walked across the roof, turning on his heel to face his brother. He began to bust out the sickest rhymes any ears had ever been privy to.

_Hey, you, fool on the roof, lookin' bedraggled and all kinds of uncouth_

_With your uncombed hair and your baggy jeans, the whole two-bit youth_

_I'm gonna take you down a peg or two because that's just the way I do_

_I'll be solving all these troubles, because I'm the fucking Problem Sleuth_

"Jesus," Dave grunted, doing a cool youth roll out of the way of an incoming wave of shitty ninja stars. "You really are trying to kill me, you fucking asshole."

"Then fight back," Bro replied. "Or, better yet, see if you can get me to take these hands out of my pockets."

"Fuck you," said Dave.

_You say you're Problem Sleuth but I know that ain't the truth_

_With all your smuppets and your dolls like a fucking collector_

_The bells are ringing in my head like a goddamn lie detector_

_Because I see you with them other boys, you're the Pickle Inspector_

Dave only managed to launch two swords and a half-eaten burrito. He stared blankly at the mangled wrap on the ground and wondered how long it had been in his sylladex. Oops.

"Damn, man. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to look away in a fight?" Bro teased.

_Yeah, you're stealing my games 'cause you think you're real slick_

_But I know you're pretty good with the other console's control stick_

_So why don't you hurry and submit while I'll still admit_

_That when it comes to guys, your name is Ace Dick_

"What does that even mean," Dave said. His words were quickly followed by a torrent of bitten off swearwords and swords.

Oh god, there were just so many swords and _where were they all coming from_? Dave obviously needed more practice with his keywords. He was getting nowhere fast.

_Now your references are drying up and while I did accommodate_

_At first, I think from here I'll play it straight (though I doubt you'll do the same)_

_You'll be the Sweet Bro to my Hella Jeff in the land of ironic debate_

_Because when we roll in the streets with the hoes the birth rate'll inflate_

A pair of nunchucks and a really, really old slice of pizza flopped to the cement grit. That didn't matter, though, because Bro was doubled over on the ground, laughing his ass off.

"That is the dumbest shit I've ever heard anyone say," Bro gasped. "It's so stupid and terrible and utterly _beautiful_."

"I still managed to get your fucking hands out of your pockets, didn't I," Dave snapped. "I think that means I _won_ this, bitchass."

"Oh really? Look again," Bro grinned, his pointy shades glinting in the hot sunlight.

Dave looked down.

"You fucking asshole bastard," Dave said.

Lil Cal's puppety hands were clearly nestled deep in Bro's pockets.

"I clearly remember that I was never specific as to _whose_ hands were in my pockets, hm?" Bro said.

"I fucking hate you. Forever. All of my hate. _All of it_."

"Love you too, buddy."


	77. Lens 77

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

The package was inconspicuous enough. Dave let it sit on the kitchen counter for a full three days before he even glanced in its direction. He was too cool to care.

It was at this point that Bro and Dave entered the game Dave commonly referred to as "Ignore" (though it was an unspoken coinage). The rules were simple: ignore the fuck out of whatever it was that would normally demand attention.

Like a parcel in the mail, for example.

A week went by and neither of them brought it up. Once in a while, Dave spotted a smuppet dangling precariously off the corner. At one point, he even saw Lil Cal sitting there, grinning, wide soulless eyes fixed on Dave.

Lil Cal flapped an arm. He was motioning to the box.

Dave bit back a near instantaneous "fuck you" and just did a weak cool-guy smile (which was more of a nothing at all sort of expression, with just a hint of subtle smirk). He gave a hesitant brofist (Lil Cal was pretty sweet, after all), grabbed a bottle of apple juice and hightailed it out of the kitchen.

Another week went by. Suddenly, there were two parcels on the kitchen table, stacked on top of the other. Dave narrowed his eyes. Was Bro just fucking with him now, or had someone sent two identical parcels?

A day later, the boxes were sitting side by side.

The next, Cal was between them.

Then one was on the fridge.

Then it was gone.

Only one parcel was on the counter now. Dave adjusted his shades, glaring at the package. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Bro had been winning the game—as always—with his ironic puppet displays, but now… Now Dave didn't really know _who_ was winning. After all, Bro had gone past fucking around. He had actually _taken_ a package, and Dave was pretty sure that broke the one and only rule of "Ignore".

Another week went by without mention of the parcel. Dave was too chill to let his feathers be ruffled by such a weak turnout, but if he was anyone else he would have been damn _pissed_. Bro hadn't even mentioned it in passing.

Two days.

Bro cuffed Dave upside the head. "For fuck's sake, asshole. Get your goddamn fucking game off the counter. Viewers are starting to get bored of that shit as a backdrop and that means our income is going to start dropping."

"What," Dave said.

"The game! That fucking package on the counter."

"I'm pretty sure I just fucking won that game, bitch."

Bro touched his pointy shades, as cool folks are apt to do. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"I just won," Dave repeated.

"Won _what_? Just grab your fucking package before I feed it to you, dipshit."

"Well, alright then, if you insist…"

"JESUS, Dave, I meant the package on the fucking table, you goddamn prick bastard. Fuck's sake, what kind of a kid _are_ you?" Bro pulled a disgusted face. "Fuck. At least toss the fucker if you aren't going to play it."

"So, wait. That parcel is a fucking game or something?"

"No shit, dumbass. Go play it with your fucking nerdass friends or something."

"What. Well, are you gonna play."

Bro shrugged. "I dunno. Seems too Sims-y for me. Tell me how it is, we'll see what happens."

"Whatever." Dave slouched over and picked up the package. He tore it open and two sleeved discs fell out. "Why are there two."

"Fuck if I know. Talk to your friends, this is the sort of shit you have them for, isn't it?" Bro pulled a can of Faygo from the fridge and cracked it open. "I don't have time for this bullshit, anyway. I have like, eight fucking sites I need to make a goddamn racket on and a gig next Tuesday."

"Yeah. I dunno if I'll get to it, either. Doesn't sound like my style, either." Dave glanced at the discs, then tossed the useless packaging into the garbage bin.

"Whatever, man." Bro downed the soda in one go and tossed it into the recycling from a distance. "Did you see that? That shot was fucking _golden_."

"Whatever." Dave picked the CDs up. "Might as well keep these. Egbert might have some sort of sudden urge to get his shittastic game on and con me into it. Maybe I can do an ironic review on it or something."

"Sure, bro, I don't care." Bro ruffled his little brother's hair. "Games are more fun with friends anyway, right?" He barked a laugh and strode out of the kitchen, leaving Dave to survey the discs with mixed feelings.

"Yeah. I guess so."


	78. Lens 78

**Obscura ~ Age 17**

Dave awoke to find a piece of notebook paper plastered to his forehead and ink on his face.

"The shit." He sat up and slumped forward. What the hell had happened last night? He had woken up so many times, it was hard to remember.

Shit. What time was it?

Dave turned to his clock and, in doing so, the paper fluttered gracefully into his lap. "The shit," he said again.

_Dear Dave,_

_Sorry I left so soon! Something came up and I had to go home! I'm really sorry : (_

_I wanted to stay longer, but Bec was all mean and insisted I go with him._

_I promise I'll see you again soon, okay? Maybe then you can show me that cool song you were working on! I hope it's done by then! Work hard for me!_

_And thanks for putting up with me for so long! : )_

_-Jade_

She had doodled a happy little person (he assumed it was Jade) beside a bespectacled youth (he assumed it was him) surrounded by lots of tiny music notes at the bottom of the page. One of them looked suspiciously like a heart, but he wasn't sure if that was intentional or the result of a couple hours of face-to-paper contact.

Shit. When had she left, anyway?

The clock read noon.

Dammit, Jade. Why had she left without telling him, anyway? It sounded urgent, yeah, but it wasn't like it'd take long to wake him. Hell, finding the paper and writing the fucking note probably took three times as long as a simple oral explanation would have. Would it really have been so hard? Fuck.

But…

Maybe she just thought Dave was too much of an asshole to listen.


	79. Lens 79

**AN**: Holy fuck this is long. Sorry about that. Also I evidently forget that both a) America's legal drinking age is different and b) they live in America. OOPS good thing Orange caught that. ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND even though you don't even read this a;lkgdsjasd

**Obscura ~ Age 20**

Dave sat his desk, ill beats thumping in his headphones. His shaded eyes flicked to the computer screen.

[ectoBiologist has begun pestering turntechGodhead]

EB: what's up!

TG: cold

TG: it is cold here

EB: ooooooooh

EB: get a sweater stupid!

TG: fuck that i am sitting

EB: get a sweater anyway

TG: too much work

EB: this is why you have no friends dave

Dave snorted. _Thanks, douche._ His leg twitched.

TG: what is crawling on me

EB: smuppets

Dave shuddered. It better not be fucking smuppets. That would be the first sign of the goddamn apocalypse.

TG: fuck i hope not

EB: what else could it be!

TG: well i am hoping the smuppets did not suddenly gain sentience

TG: i would not be their first choice in leader

TG: it would be bro

TG: and that would be bad

TG: so very very bad

EB: awful even.

TG: i just

TG: dont even want to know

EB: more puppet porn would be made.

Dave certainly didn't want to star in any puppet porn. Ever. He had unknowingly pulled off more puppet deaths than he could count, but puppet sex was something else.

TG: no we are not thinking about that

TG: just

TG: no

TG: what about you what are you doing

EB: hehehe you can't unsee!

TG: other than not getting molested by puppet probiscii

The chat went idle for a few minutes and Dave nodded along with the music. Damn, his room was cold. Maybe he should get a sweater. This was fucking unusual.

EB: soooooooo

TG: bluh

Dave enjoyed using John's word every so often for purely ironic reasons. It kept things fresh.

Then again, unironically, it _was_ the perfect word.

EB: what's up?

TG: contemplating sleep

TG: what about you

EB: it's kinda early...

TG: might as well catch up

EB: did you not sleep well?

TG: yeah my schedule is fucked up

EB: maybe you should fix that instead of catching up? i mean like, staying up for a while and then sleeping at a normal time?

TG: nah its cool

TG: ill knock myself out with cold medicine tonight

EB: that's also bad you idiot!

TG: i can taste the shitty lemon swill now

EB: don't you dare fall asleep talking to me again.

EB: i won't forgive you.

EB: ever.

Dave paused. Had he really done it that many times?

The answer was yes. Yes, he had. Almost every conversation seemed to end with Dave falling asleep at the monitor, only to be restarted when he woke up.

TG: dont you love me man

TG: im so hurt egbert

TG: my heart it bleeds

EB: good maybe it will keep you awake.

TG: i dont think thats how it work

TG: i think i would just

TG: die

TG: which isnt very awake

EB: ...no it's not really how it works i guess you're right

Dave hesitated at the ellipses, the back of his neck prickling. Shit. He had done something, hadn't he? Well, might as well play it through. Maybe he was just imagining things, as he was apt to do.

TG: damn straight

EB: sorry.

TG: for what

EB: nothing, nevermind.

TG: for fucks sake egbert do you remember my speech?

TG: i said something wrong fucking talk to me man

EB: yeah i do...

EB: i just don't think i should have brought it up. sorry.

TG: do i have to take off my fucking shades again man

TG: just spit it out

EB: this is making me really uncomfortable.

TG: fuck

TG: sorry bro

EB: not your fault.

TG: i just

TG: ugh

Dave thudded his head softly against the wood of his desk. Fuck. Fuck. He had made John feel sick. _Again_. He should start a fucking tally chart.

EB: i guess dave... i don't really like thinking about dying.

EB: it hurts.

Dave's stomach knotted. He had suspected something like this, but he had tried to be optimistic.

Optimism was obviously for idiots.

Dave should have learned that long ago. Maybe around the time the fifteenth self-corpse showed up.

TG: yeah

TG: i know

TG: trust me on that

EB: i know you know that's why i'm sorry i brought it up.

TG: no shit thats not what i

TG: egbert fuck im sorry i didnt think

EB: please dave, please don't apologize.

EB: it's alright.

TG: egbert dont cry

TG: or throw up

TG: its cool man we got this

EB: ...yeah i know.

Dave closed his eyes, feeling the metal of his glasses dig into the bridge of his nose. It was still cold. Shit.

Something uncomfortable moved inside him. Now was as good a time as any. There was something he had been meaning to say for years.

TG: hey uh egbert

EB: yeah?

TG: did i ever thank you

TG: just

EB: ...for what?

TG: for everything you did

EB: for

EB: for what?

TG: you know

TG: in game

TG: shit

TG: nevermind

EB: dave...

EB: it doesn't matter if you did or not, i know.

TG: yeah i just i dunno

EB: dave, did i really do enough in game for you all?

EB: i feel like... i should've done more sometimes

TG: no john holy shit you did more than enough

TG: and dont think that man

TG: i didnt even make god tier for fucks sake

EB: so?

EB: i couldn't have done anything without all of you.

EB: and god tier doesn't matter... i wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for vriska anyway...

TG: well yeah none of us could

TG: that was kind of the point of the game you need at least like two players

TG: yeah but i had terezi remember

TG: fuck

John took several minutes to reply. Dave drummed his fingertips against the mouse. His hands felt stiff.

EB: dave, it's scary to die.

EB: i'm glad you didn't reach god tier.

EB: i'm glad you didn't kill yourself and add to all those horrible times you died in game, alright? so please don't say stuff like that.

TG: i dont know

TG: sometimes i dont even understand why i didnt

TG: its not like i wouldntve died anyway

EB: because you don't want to kill yourself.

TG: yeah but whats the point

TG: dead is dead

TG: maybe itd be a better death if i did it

TG: i dont

EB: dave strider stop right now.

TG: why am i even telling you this

Why _was_ he being so fucking honest all of a sudden? He had barely admitted it to himself. Why John? John must've been fucking _magic_.

EB: stop right now and don't you finish that

EB: death is awful and it isn't better or worse and i am glad you didn't kill yourself there in game.

EB: it doesn't matter alright? i know you're worried and you probably regret it but i am so glad you didn't alright?

EB: besides, i'm supposed to be the god here! can't have you trying to get my title. how can i be jealous of you if we're the same?

TG: pretty sure i was the jealous one

TG: and egbert fuck

TG: im sorry you had to do something so scary

EB: but dave i think you're really cool! i guess neither of us know how good we've got it, hehehe.

EB: and, it's alright.

EB: i'd do anything scary for you guys.

TG: no its not alright jegus that is the mindset that has you throwing yourself away for stupid fucking reasons

EB: i do NOT do it for stupid reasons! i am just looking after you guys!

TG: egbert

TG: listen to me

TG: throwing yourself in front of us

TG: is a stupid way to die

TG: you think we want that

TG: instead of thinking that bullshit you have to say

TG: we will ALL live

EB: but... i want you guys to live.

EB: and if it costs me... i'm okay with it.

Dave grit his teeth, fingers clenched tightly around the arms of his chair, knuckles white with force. Why didn't John understand? He was worth so much more than that. He was worth so much more than Dave and he was just so fucking willing to throw his life away the moment things got dangerous.

_Again_. He was willing to do it _again_.

Did he really feel so meaningless? After all they had gone through, hadn't John realized he was their important friend?

The worst part, though, was that Dave knew that he would do the exact same thing. If it had meant saving any member of their team, he would have done anything to save them. His friends were special. He was just one of possibly infinite Daves.

And after all, what was another death in a thousand?

TG: fuck egbert im NOT

EB: dave?

TG: what

EB: i really care about you guys.

EB: i'm sorry.

TG: no egbert i

TG: shit why am i so bad at this

EB: no, i am sorry. because i'm not going to change how i feel about that. if i can i'm going to look after you.

TG: egbert no

TG: shit shit shit shit

Dave bit his lip. John was misunderstanding so brutally and Dave couldn't get his hands to type the words he wanted. The suffocating smoke was curling in his throat and John wasn't even in the same goddamn room. How had he gotten so fucked up?

He tried to type again. His fingers were mutinous. He would type a word, sometimes a sentence, then delete it all in a moment of regret and self loathing. Fuck. What was he supposed to say? He could write lyrics but he couldn't write his own fucking thoughts.

His stomach turned and the heat rose to his shoulders. Fuck. John's reply would have to wait. Without another glance, he stood up and dashed from the room.

EB: dave?

EB: hey dave, sorry, what is it?

EB: i'm sorry, did i mess up? dave?

TG: Hahaha oh wow. That kid sucks.

TG: Sup Eggy my man

EB: oh, bro? is that you?

EB: is dave okay?

EB: i think i really upset him.

TG: Yeah I think he's trying to drown himself in the sink or something

EB: what!

TG: I wouldn't worry about it haha

EB: i can't not worry about dave!

TG: Yeah I know. You're a good kid.

EB: i think i really fucked up just now is he alright?

TG: No haha I think you're misunderstanding.

TG: He's just

TG: Shitty?

TG: Heh

EB: shitty how?

EB: look all i know is he was freaking out and i think it's my fault.

TG: No he's just an idiot.

TG: I scrolled up and I totally get what he was trying to say.

EB: really?

TG: Yeah

EB: do you want to tell me bro?

TG: Well see

TG: Unfortunately for you

TG: I am shitty also ahahaha.

TG: Though I won't try to drown myself in a sink heh.

TG: So I guess I can try.

TG: See, Eggy, that little asshole re

TG: aisgus

TG: 0t3waeojgsd;lkjaldsgkj;sjgdsak

TG: hahahaha;slgdkjasdlgjase

TG: [[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[

Dave made a lunging dive for Bro, who merely grinned and flashstepped out of the way. Dave hit the chair and crashed to the ground. The two proceeded to have the manliest keyboard slapfight in the history of keyboard slapfights.

TG: fuck you

After a long stretch of gibberish streams to John, Bro gave a barking laugh and flashed from the room. Dave sat his chair up and sank into it, exhausted.

EB: ...huh?

TG: did that asshole oh god he did

TG: fuck everything

TG: fuck

TG: everything

EB: dave are you... alright?

TG: fucking peachy

EB: what were you trying to say?

TG: shit

TG: shit

TG: okay

TG: egbert look

TG: we care about you too okay

TG: i care about you

TG: it just

TG: hurts to see you so stuck on this fucking martyr complex

TG: i

TG: fuck i cant even

TG: goddammit

TG: mnmh,

TG: ow

Dave slammed his head against the desk again. This time, however, he missed the wood and smashed forehead-first into the keyboard. His chest felt tight. Why couldn't he couldn't just tell John what he wanted to? Why did this have to be such a fucking production?

EB: dave i'm trying alright it's just.

EB: it's so hard for me to not want to watch out for you guys.

EB: because you all seem so hard done by sometimes and i can't help but hate myself for it, and i don't know what else to do!

EB: i'm always scared something bad is going to happen to you all again and i want to be there for you if it does.

TG: i know man but like

TG: you try so hard to take care of us you dont even fucking take care of yourself

TG: and that bothers me

EB: i'm just so used to that.

TG: i know you are thats what makes it so much harder

TG: ugh

EB: dave i'm sorry. i'm trying.

EB: it's just hard for me and i know it's awful for you cause i'm such an idiot

EB: but i just think you guys are more important.

Dave didn't understand how John could think something like that. John was his fucking idol (not that he'd ever admit it unironically). John was the guy he was supposed to be _jealous_ of. He was the guy who could become a hero, speak his mind, the guy who could ascend to fucking God Tier. He was the normal kid with the normal eyes and the derpy smile and all the friends.

And now he was sounding exactly like Dave's thoughts.

TG: egbert no jesus its not even your fault im not saying it is

TG: but look were really not

TG: were just

TG: i mean you were the one that always said you were our friend and not our leader right

TG: that equality shit works both ways man

TG: so just throwing yourself in front of us like youre worthless

TG: youre not thats the problem

TG: without you we wouldve been fucked

TG: hell we still would be

TG: so just

TG: i dont even know

TG: fuck

TG: im sorry this isnt even your fault its just i dunno how you are

TG: im not blaming you ugh

EB: i...

EB: dave i don't know what to say.

EB: i am so grateful to you.

EB; i know you're all my friends and i know all that it's just, i feel like i need to be good enough

TG: jegus but you are man

TG: youre too good you need to leave some for the rest of us

TG: you dont deserve all this shit and it pisses me off

EB: neither do you guys!

EB: look dave i am trying

EB: you know i am.

EB: i guess... i do just feel guilty. and i don't understand why.

EB: it's hard for me to see myself like you guys do now. i just feel like shit because i can't handle what happened and game so maybe it's okay if... if it's me instead of you guys.

EB: and i know that's wrong so don't tell me. i'm sorry.

Dave didn't cry. Up until a few years ago, he had been convinced he physically _couldn't_ cry.

This felt different, though. The stress building in his abdomen was a wrecking ball of destruction and he was near his breaking point. John was saying all the things he felt and he knew he couldn't say the same. John would…well, he'd react the same way Dave was reacting. They had been on the same goddamn mindwave the whole time and neither of them had realized it. Hell, John _still_ probably didn't.

Except John wasn't Dave. John was innocent and kind and naïve. He was pure. Dave was just…Dave.

He was the one who deserved all the shit the game had thrown at him. Not John. Not the windy boy.

Dave rubbed his eyes roughly. He was not going to cry. Bro would hear him and Bro would judge him and it would make life a living hell.

More than already.

TG: no

TG: please egbert just

TG: dont think like that

EB: i said i'm sorry. i know you guys are my friends and i'm not a leader... and i'm not trying to be.

EB: i just want to look after you guys and i feel so messed up inside.

EB: sorry dave, i think i'm going to pass out

TG: no shit egbert dont faint jesus its okay just breathe

TG: egbert im not blaming you okay

TG: its not your fault

TG: look man i get it

TG: so just dont freak out ok

TG: well take care of each other thats just what we do

TG: so you dont have to take it all on yourself ok well just work as a fucking team again

It took a few minutes for John to reply again, during which Dave grit his teeth and scrunched his eyes and tried not to have a heart attack. He was pretty sure after last time that he wasn't supposed to call 911. Then again, he was also pretty sure calling from a different state would only complicate the matter. Shit.

EB: sorry i can't help it... and i did faint. guess i should let you know.

TG: shit egbert how are you feeling did you hit anything shit shit

EB: no it's alright i'm fine please don't freak.

TG: alright then as long as you didnt hurt yourself or anything

EB: no it's okay i didn't hit anything i'm on a couch.

TG: good

EB: and... yeah. i am trying dave. i just feel so fucked up sometimes.

TG: its okay man thats

TG: i guess thats normal

TG: dont beat yourself up about it

TG: i know youre trying just hang in there

EB: thanks dave. i... this does help. i kinda wish i had talked to you guys earlier.

TG: same man dont bottle this shit up

EB: dave... can we hang out? maybe all of us?

TG: yeah man thatd be good

EB: ...good.

EB: i'd like to be able to talk with you all.

TG: yeah

TG: im sure everyone else would too

TG: maybe we can work this shit out

TG: oh shit rose would be there

EB: what's wrong with that?

TG: dongs everywhere

TG: oh god

EB: no, she'll respect us...

TG: yeah you maybe

TG: shes different with me

EB: but i'll be there! don't worry.

TG: fuck i guess jadell be there too

EB: hehehe, why so nervous to see her? hmmmmmmmm?

Dave narrowed his eyes. He knew the whole Jade thing was a distraction. John still had the nausea, he was just trying to play the whole thing off like it was nothing. _Nice fucking ruse, Egbert_, Dave thought.

TG: no shut up

TG: you dont even want to go there man im warning you

EB: hehehe, what makes you think i don't know already and am just seeing if you'll tell me?

Dave stared at the screen in horror. No. No. John didn't know. He couldn't know.

TG: oh god

TG: oh god

TG: oh god

TG: oh god

EB: hehehe.

Fuck. He knew. That rat bastard had known the whole time and he was just sitting on his ass having a good laugh about it.

TG: shit man what the hell am i supposed to say now

EB: nothing!

EB: i'm glad things are working out for you two though!

EB: about time and all. hehehe.

TG: i

TG: you

TG: oh god

TG: why

TG: just

TG: whyyyy

EB: did i just make things weird between us?

TG: no im just sobbing in this corner for fun

TG: you should try it sometime

Dave did a x2 facepalm combo. Well, now he felt like weeping for a completely different fucking reason. Way to go, Egbert. Mood whiplash was just what the doctor had ordered!

TG: is that uh

TG: is that all she said

EB: heh. cmon dave i was going to find out sooner or later. she's kinda my sister.

EB: and don't worry i don't really want to know details.

TG: shit no why would i

TG: why would i tell you just no

EB: daaaaaaaave i think you're missing the point!

EB: which is you're not allowed to break her heart okay? also i better be your best man.

TG: y-yeah

TG: i

TG: i wouldnt do that to her man

EB: i know.

TG: and obviously youre my best man who else am i gonna choose rose ugh

EB: rose would make a good best man!

EB: she looks good in a tux.

TG: nah man youre the only best man for me besides rose would just try to convince me how much i love cock

TG: which according to her is a lot

EB: well probably yeah actually... i bet she would especially at your wedding.

TG: shed be all Well David as much as I am fond of our Jade I do believe that you are a closet homosexual

EB: hehehe!

EB: ...hey dave?

EB: this is kinda totally... off topic.

TG: yeah man sup

EB: as much as i love talking about you and jade and your sex life.

Dave pinched his nose. John had fucking gone there. Well, whatever he said next, at least it wouldn't have those words in it.

EB: just.

EB: is this what normal people do?

EB: i mean talk like this.

EB: about normal things.

Normal? Dave didn't know normal. He had never even fucking _met_ normal. Not now, not then, not even before the gogdamn game.

TG: i

TG: i guess so

TG: youre kind of asking the wrong guy man

TG: you still feeling bad egbert

EB: i mean i don't really know either...

EB: it's been a while since i was normal too, heh.

EB: and... i dunno, i'm always feeling a bit bad. it was fun teasing you though!

EB: maybe that's why rose does it.

TG: shit please dont turn into another rose

EB: don't be stupid.

EB: i like being me.

EB: mostly.

TG :egbert

TG: i like you as you too

TG: youre my best man after all

EB: heh, i just hate getting sick.

TG: yeah

TG: i hate that too

EB: ...yeah.

EB: man i never thought i'd rather be talking about your and jade's sex life compared to something...

Dave shuddered. Why was John so fond of those words? Just…just why.

TG: can you

TG: can you stop saying that fully

EB: saying what?

EB: your and jade's sex life?

TG: yes

TG: that

TG: that thing that you keep saying yes

EB: hey so long as you're happy.

TG: cry

EB: you are happy right?

EB: with jade?

TG: y-yeah

TG: shes

TG: i dont even know

Amazing? Perfect? Practically psychic? Dave rubbed his forehead. Did it even matter what adjective he used? This was fucking stupid.

EB: have you told her you love her yet?

Dave stared at the screen in horror. No. Not even once. Rude or not, it wasn't something he could say. Not even then.

Time for some smooth subject changing.

TG: so when are you going to hook up with rose

TG: dont deny it man i know its gonna happen eventually

TG: you cant deny the trollgods shipping chart heh

EB: maybe i'll do that right after you answer me.

Fuck. Plan foiled. Maybe he could have gone for a smoother transition, but fuck. John had him cornered in a goddamn back alley with a cocked gun and a full magazine. What the hell was he supposed to do?

EB: just fly across the country and bring her black roses. i'll get some tips off karkat before heading out!

A pause.

EB: don't tell me you're just doing this ironicaly.

TG: no

TG: fuck no egbert no just no

TG: i

TG: i wouldnt do that

TG: shit

EB: don't worry. i know you better than that!

EB: i was just testing you.

EB: hehehe

EB: daaaaaaaave geez you freak over everything! i'm not going to kill you because you finally manned up and got into a relationship with her.

Thanks for the complisult, douchebag.

TG: yeah that uh that phrasing is great thanks for that

EB: dave it was really obvious you two were going to get together.

TG: yeah just gloss over it thats cool man

TG: well then what about you and rose

EB: over what? is there something specific you want to talk about with your and jade's sex life there dave?

TG: no no no no no jegus no fuck

EB: hehehhehe!

TG: dammit egbert

TG: you are a gogdamn sadist

EB: no i'm not!

EB: it's just so rarely you're bothered by things!

EB: i mean you're mr coolkid who doesn't get uncomfortable about anything

EB: i guess i'm glad that you two are together too. or at least happy.

Dave shifted uncomfortably. "Happy" wasn't exactly the word he would use to describe the relationship. "Desperate" seemed more suitable.

TG: i...

TG: i wouldnt say were happy

EB: ...oh. okay.

EB: but you do like her right?

TG: yeah

EB: then things will work out!

TG: maybe

TG: i hope so

EB: no they will dave.

EB: you should bring her something when we hang out!

TG: well yeah all four of us together isnt that what you suggested

EB: of course!

EB: just no having sex with all of us there, okay?

TG: oh god no why would you ugh my head

EB: hehehe! you're welcome.

Sighing, Dave ground his palm against his forehead. He wasn't made for this. He couldn't do _feelings_. Not even with Jade.

TG: egbert

EB: yeah?

Dave took a deep breath. It was now or never.

TG: shit

TG: okay

TG: egbert im scared ill fuck this up

EB: with jade?

TG: yeah

TG: just

TG: everything

EB: calm down dave!

EB: i know it's kinda... freaky and all.

EB: i'm kinda scared to ask rose out sometimes to be honest...

EB: but you're going to be doing it together

EB: and you can help each other through this, and you'll have rose and i.

TG: i know

TG: im just

TG: not good at this you know

TG: and jade is well

TG: i dont know

TG: and egbert, rose would never reject you

TG: trust me on that

EB: i think i just... i understand where you're coming from a bit dave.

EB: it's hard and weird and just... awful sometimes, isn't it? but if you love her... it'll work out.

TG: yeah

TG: im just scared

TG: i dont want to hurt her

EB: don't take this the wrong way okay?

EB: but i think you're going to be a good boyfriend.

TG: no i

TG: shit i dont even know what to do

EB: you just have to be there for each other i guess? i mean, i haven't really had a serious girlfriend before...

Dave stared at the screen a moment before it clicked.

TG: youve had a girlfriend before

EB: yeah nothing serious... i never really mentioned it. it wasn't a big thing

TG: i am shocked

TG: probably moreso than i should be

EB: i'd act offended but i'm not feeling up to it.

TG: Sorry

TG: you just seem really uh

TG: innocent

EB: so...you don't think i can get a girlfriend?

TG: no jegus i just i dont know

TG: i guess i always pictured you either single or married heh

EB: well we weren't together long.

EB: i dunno i didn't really enjoy it... i don't know why i agreed to date her.

EB: i felt kinda bad afterwards.. look it's no big deal.

TG: its cool man shouldve known my lil bro was a ladies man

EB: i'm not really...

TG: nah man between us youre definitely the one chicks would want end game

EB: i guess you're right though, i'm just not all that... interested.

TG: ...

TG: yeah

TG: i get that

After all, Dave hadn't exactly been the smoothest player. It was hard to find the right girl when you spent half your time hallucinating trolls.

EB: dave?

TG: yeah

EB: if i asked rose out... you really think she'd say yes?

TG: yeah

TG: she definitely would

TG: shed be really fucking roundabout and snarky but shed say yes

EB: i guess i'm a bit nervous is all

TG: yeah

TG: i was too

Dave neglected to mention that he never actually had to say _anything._ It just…happened.

EB: i just... dunno what to say i guess?

TG: sometimes you dont have to say anything

EB: i dunno when to even... ask... i dunno all this is confusing.

TG: maybe when you see her next

TG: i think shed prefer it in person

EB: i'm not going to ask her out online! that's stupid.

TG: heh good boy

EB: man i feel so nervous! what if she does say no?

TG: she wont its rose

EB: ...hey.

TG: sup

EB: i think i'm scared that i'm going to be sick if i ask her out.

EB: or if i kiss her.

TG: i think shell understand

TG: i did...

EB: i don't really wanna barf in her mouth.

Dave didn't think Rose would appreciate that, either. But John was overthinking things again.

TG: just take it slow man

TG: rose is a snarky bitch but i know shed do her best to make you feel ok

EB: i know.

EB: i guess it makes me feel better you were a bit freaked with jade? i dunno.

TG: er

TG: well

TG: it was kind of the other way around...

TG: i was uh

TG: freaking about something else at the time i guess

EB: well jade didn't tell me everything obviously!

TG: she uh has a good right hook

TG: you should be proud

EB: haha it must run in the family.

TG: jegus yeah did you just give her lessons or something shit man

EB: nope!

EB: i guess punching you is just the best way to get through to you.

TG: i was trying to make her feel better dammit

EB: ...sorry.

Again with the ellipses. Even online, John was pretty easy to read. Dave didn't need his aviators of truth to be able to know what John was thinking.

TG: no fuck dont even

TG: i just mean rosell understand if you have trouble man

EB: ...thanks

TG: dont be scared bro weve all got your back

TG: and that includes her

TG: shell whip up some psychobullshit and make you feel all warm and fucking fuzzy on the inside

EB: i don't think that's how it works...

EB: i'm sorry, i'm just starting to feel sick.

TG: shit egbert just chill its ok

TG: youll be ok

TG: well all hang out sometime soon

TG: and well i dunno have a shitty movie marathon

TG: and well go to the zoo and rosell show you all the sketchy horrorterrors she loves so fucking much

EB: dave i know you're trying to help but please just stop for a bit

EB: i don't want to think about it

TG: sorry

TG: maybe just you and me to start

TG: ill take you to a club and well get wasted i dunno

EB: dave we'd have to wait two years still.

TG: nah man thats what fake ids are for

EB: dave i don't have one. you going to hook me up?

TG: yeah man you know it

TG: i know this one juggalo asshole im sure hell have like thirty of them you can choose from

TG: just uh if he offers you a drink dont take it

EB: alright.

EB: fuck, dave, before, i do want to hang with all of you. i think we all need it.

EB: i don't...want to do this alone.

TG: yeah man

TG: come to us

TG: dont think just come shhh

TG: we will cover you in squiddles and fucking friendship

EB: i'll bring you with me!

EB: you need them just as much.

TG: yeah

TG: i think we all do man

EB: i know you do.

EB: hey, dave. thanks.

TG: anything for my lil bro

EB: for everything.

EB: you are getting the biggest hug ever when i see you next.

Dave couldn't say he hadn't expected as much. John was a fucking hug machine.

TG: fuck

TG: fine

TG: just...just take your time ok

TG: itll get better

EB: and if it doesn't?

TG: well take care of you

EB: the biggest hug. ever. for all of you.

TG: yeah

TG: well make it work egbert i promise

EB: i know.

Dave nodded. He didn't now if he could keep his promise, but he'd try.

[ectoBiologist has ceased pestering turntechGodhead]


	80. Lens 80

**Obscura ~ Age 0**

"Hey, Shades…"

"Mm."

"Wake up, asshole."

"No. I'm having beautiful dreams about sweet, gentle girlfriends who don't steal all my fucking cash and blow it on barbequed meat."

"Hey! I shared!"

"Yeah, you were real fucking generous." Strider rolled over and sat up, stretching.

Verity grinned. "Nice view."

He snorted. "Yeah, I'm a fucking Adonis. Look, what do you want?"

"What makes you think I want something?" She narrowed her eyes, faded blue lips pursed.

"Because you do this every time." Bro scratched the back of his head, yawned, and reached for his shades. She slapped his hand away. "Jesus. See? Every fucking time."

"Listen to me, Shades."

"Sup."

"You know what today is."

"Yeah, I do. Little Vity got a job, hm?" He pinched her cheek and she punched him in the nose.

"Shut the hell up," she snarled.

"Bitch."

"Fool." She climbed out of bed, stretching daintily and going to the window. "Maybe I won't tell you after all."

"Oh, just cut the passive-aggressive bullshit and spit it out." Freed from her eerily intense gaze, he snatched the sunglasses from the nightstand and slipped them on.

Verity spun around, crossing her arms, and leaned on the windowsill. "Today is an important day, Shades."

He sighed. "Okay. Did I forget your birthday or something?"

"No, you did not forget my—god, you're such a child. Just listen to me for a minute."

He smirked. "Or what?"

She grinned, eyes narrowed. "I'll cut that tongue out of your pretty face, that's what."

"Oh really? I'd like to see you try that."

"That can be arranged." She took a step forward, then stopped, shaking her head. "No. I'm not going to fall for that."

"_Again_. You mean you're not going to fall for that _again_."

"Wipe that smirk off your face or I'll do it for you." She adjusted her glasses. "Shades, today is important. Or rather, it's not important yet, but it _will_ be, so _remember it._"

"Yeah, yeah. It's your first big gig today, right? I guess if I had any feelings in this hollow shell that is my chest, I'd say I'm proud."

She waved her hand, irritated. "I don't need stupid words like that. Shades, you'd better be at the concert today."

"I don't know, man. I had a lot of things planned. First I was going to be lazy, and then I was going to slob around for a while until my afternoon bit of not doing anything, until I finished the day off with a good round of vegetating on the couch."

Verity approached him slowly, expression cold. In an instant, she lashed out, whipping his shades off and grabbing his head firmly between her hands. "You'll be there," she hissed, brilliant blue eyes boring into his. "Because if you miss this, _I'll never forgive you._"

He laughed, covering her hands with his own. "Yeah, yeah. I got you. I wouldn't miss it for anything. You're going to be a star, right?"

"Right. Don't you forget that."

"I won't."

"You'd better not." She pulled away, frowning as she caught sight of the clock. "I have to get ready now."

"Yeah, yeah. Make yourself fucking presentable." Strider fell back against the pillows, head resting on his arms. He grinned. "Break a leg and all that."

"Better yet, I'll break _two_," she said, pausing at the door. "But remember. If you miss this, I'll never forgive you. Ever."

"You said that already. I'm an asshole, yeah, but I'm not a jerk. I'll go to your fucking concert. For fuck's sake, you don't have to worry so much. Just focus on your damn work."

Her fingertips trailed along the doorframe. "No. I think I worry just the right amount."

And then she left.


	81. Lens 81

**Obscura ~ Age 18**

Dave shuddered awake. The first thing he noticed was something digging into his ribs. He grunted. "…You still hug in your fucking sleep, asshole."

John yawned, rubbing his eyes. "Mmm? Why would that have changed?"

"I don't know," Dave growled, pushing himself up and freeing John's arm. "Maybe you fucking learned something from last time. A guy can hope."

"Yeah, I did. You're really comfy!" John beamed.

"No. No, I am not." Dave reached to adjust his glasses. His fingertips met only the skin of his face. His stomach gave a horrified lurch, but he managed to grit his teeth and push the clammy feeling aside.

"How do you even know?" John was saying. Dave forced himself to pay attention.

"I am just not a fucking comfy guy."

"But you're better than pillows! I can just, y'know, not anymore…" John shifted, looking rather forlorn.

"Way to fucking guilt trip me, Egbert. Jegus." Dave raked his fingers through his blonde hair. His eyes had adjusted to the light and it was starting to freak him out.

"Hehehe. C'mon, Dave. I've had a shitty week! You can cut me some slack."

"Fuck. You are cruel, you know that." Dave

"Thanks, Dave. You're an awesome bro."

"Yeah, I'm the fucking best." Dave swung his legs over the side of the bed. He didn't want to look at John. "Your stomach okay, man. Don't want you spending the day puking again."

"Ha…ha…yeaahhh. I'm alright I guess. Kinda feel wonky…"

"Just go back to sleep, douchebag." Without making eye contact, he reached over and ruffled his friend's hair.

"Naw, it's okay…" John rolled over on his side, curling up into a ball.

"You want some drugs or something, then. Would that help."

"Not really. It doesn't really…help."

Dave was quickly running out of options. "Do you want a drink then."

"No, Dave, it's alright. Just, like, go about your day, I'll just chill here or something."

"Dude, it's summer. I sleep half the fucking day. What am I gonna do."

"Suffer," said John.

"What." Dave glanced over at him, confused.

"You'll just sleep and I'll hug you until I feel better!" John turned over and threw his arms around Dave's waist.

"I don't think I could sleep like that, man," Dave replied truthfully. John's embrace made him feel pretty damn awkward already.

"Haha, I'll get up then and chill in the bathroom or something."

Shit. That was not what Dave wanted. "Shit, no, just close your eyes, Egbert, and go back to sleep. I'll get breakfast or some shit."

"I don't really want to eat."

"Shit, man. Just don't think about it for a while." Dave patted John's arm as broly as he could. "It'll be okay."

"Yeah, I'll try…I guess…"

Dave stood up and John slumped across the bed. "Come on, man. Wanna watch a movie or something. We don't have much, but I'm sure there's some shitty film you could tolerate somewhere here."

John was on his feet in seconds. "Sure, let's watch a movie."

Dave led John back into the living room, trailing his fingers along the row of unsettling organized DVDs below the TV. "We mostly have Bro's horrible anime, but if you see something you like just point it out."

"Dave, I don't really care…" John mumbled, clutching at his shirt.

Dave's brow furrowed in frustration. What if he made the wrong choice? What if John ended up feeling even worse because Dave had absolutely no taste in movies? "Here. You watched this as a kid, right. I did. Let's watch this shit and see if it stands the test of fucking time." He froze for a moment, mouth slightly open. He hadn't meant to make a time reference. Fuck. He could feel the heat creeping up his back. No, he was being a prick. As utterly cool as he was, the world didn't fucking revolve around him.

Dave slapped the disc into the DVD player and threw himself on to the couch. "You coming or what?"

"Yeah, I'm coming!" John said, plunking down on the couch beside him.

Dave flicked on the TV and leaned back as the familiar theme song began to play. "I gotta say, man, those are some pretty ill beats issuing forth from this magic box of ours."

"Super ill. I cannot believe their awesomicity," John agreed.

Dave touched his face absently. "Damn, do they still play this on TV. Because if legions of children are growing up without this eyeball crack, I do not want to live in this future." He paused. Shit. He had just done it again.

John nodded slightly, eyes following along with the action on the screen. "I don't really know. I'm sure something like it's on."

"What would the young generations do without it, eh." Dave rubbed his temples between his forefinger and thumb. The colours were starting to hurt his eyes.

"Hey, Dave, you doin' okay there? You should get your glasses or something, maybe…" John said, glancing over.

"No, I'm fine," Dave replied. "Fucking peachy."

John eyed him curiously for a moment. "You suuure?"

Dave looked away. He didn't want John staring at him like that. "Yeah. Look, it's just…been a while, okay. It's hard to get used to."

John nodded. "It's okay, Dave. Just do whatever's comfortable for you, kay? I'm already making you get up early."

"Jegus, it's fine, Egbert." He punched John lightly in the arm. "You worry too much, man."

"Do not," John muttered. "Just looking out for you."

"Idiot." Dave leaned back, crossing his arms. "You'll just feel worse."

John sighed in frustration. "I can't just stop worrying about you. Look, it's just…weird is all, alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's fucking weird. Sorry. I'll go grab my shades." Dave stood, briefly wondering if he should pause the DVD.

John grabbed his arm. "Dave, c'mon that's not what I meant. It's weird for me to not put you guys first, I guess. So don't take it the wrong way." He dropped Dave's arm, leaning back into the couch. "And don't apologize. Nothing is your fault here."

Dave reached up to touch his glasses but stopped halfway, realizing they were probably still in the bathroom. He narrowed his eyes. "It's not yours, either."

John glanced over at Dave and gave a half smile. "Don't make that face. I wasn't trying to say it was. I did understand your speech yesterday."

"You'd fucking better have." Dave ruffled John's hair, then plunked back down on the couch. "Don't give me a gogdamn heart attack."

"I never plan to," John admitted, giving a small laugh.

"Good." Dave put his feet up on the coffee table and slid down on the couch, closing his eyes.

_Brrrr—rrk._

"What was that?" John asked, surprised. "It sounded kind of like a—"

"Phone, yeah. Don't worry, it's just Bro pulling his stupid ninja shit. I'd ignore it if I were you."

They went back to watching the show. After a few minutes, it stopped suddenly, caught mid-frame.

Dave opened his eyes and sat up. "The fuck's wrong with the—"

"Yo."

Dave jumped. "Jegus, asshole, the fuck are you—"

"Egbert, it's for you, bro." Bro leaned on the back of the couch, dangling the phone in front of the boy.

John stared at the phone, gripping the couch tightly. "Uh, who is it?"

Bro shrugged. "Dunno. Big Egbert?"

"Oh…" John froze for a moment, staring at the phone. "Oh. Uh. Right. Sure, lemme take it…" He grabbed the phone, hesitantly getting to his feet. He cast a frightened look at Dave, then went to the hall.

"What's all this about, anyway?" Bro questioned, knocking Dave on the top of the head with his knuckles.

"Fuck, cut that out. I don't know. He had a fight with his dad."

"Is that why he's been here so long? Well, that's disappointing. I thought you two eloped or some shit."

"Ha ha," Dave said mechanically. "No."

"What are you guys watching, anyway?" Bro grinned. "Oh, nice. Fucking love this show."

"No shit, you're the one that made me watch it. How old are you, anyway."

"I don't fucking age, that is how old I am."

"Liar."

"Fight me."

Dave snorted and crossed his arms. "Asshole." After a few minutes, he shifted. "Egbert's taking a while. How long does a fucking phone call take."

Bro leaned back, frowning a little. "Shit."

"What."

"Shit." Bro vanished.

"Goddammit," Dave growled, jumping to his feet. He circled the couch and ran down the hall, skidding to a halt at the door. "Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck."

Bro was crouching beside John, watching the boy sob into his arms. He glanced up at Dave and they had a brief moment of telepathic communication. Dave sighed and sat down beside John.

"Hey," he said awkwardly.

John looked up, wiped his eyes for a moment, and tried to give a smile. It turned into a sob and he threw his arms around Dave's neck, crashing into the blond.

"H-hey, man, it's ok. You can stay here as long as you want." He patted John's back.

John nodded, clutching at Dave's shirt and blubbering.

"Look, I know it's rough, but we'll work it out, man. Okay," Dave continued uselessly.

This time, John shook his head a bit but kept his face pressed into the shirt.

"Jesus, Egbert, seriously. It'll be okay. Just chill."

John yanked on the shirt, shaking his head again. He wasn't crying as much, but his breathing was still uneven.

"What is it, bro," Dave asked.

John shifted back, again wiping his eyes. He took a deep breath. "I'm…it's not what you think."

"What," said Dave.

He sniffed. "It's not a bad thing."

"Really. That's good. You're okay then."

"Yeah, I'll be fine…" John's voice trailed off and he sniffled again. "Sorry about your shirt there."

"Jegus, don't worry about stupid shit like that. I'm just glad you're alright." Dave ruffled John's hair, giving a relieved sigh.

John fidgeted for a moment and let out a small sigh. "Dave?"

"Sup."

"Dad…said he's proud of me."

"Yeah. Good. I mean, he better fucking be proud of you, man. You've done a lot to be proud of, for fuck's sake."

John shook his head, eyes tearing up again. "I want a hug. Again. I'm sorry, this is so silly."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Do what you want," Dave grunted, wrapping an arm around his friend. "Jegus."

"I feel like such a crybaby," John chuckled.

"Nah. You're just having a rough time. It's cool, man. I get it."

John leaned back again, running a hand through his hair and giving a half smile. "You're good at this, Dave."

Dave's eyebrows drew together in disbelief. "No. Just no. I'm really not."

"Well, you're good enough at it. I'm feeling better."

Dave smiled slightly. "Good. I'm glad."

"I know!" John replied, giving a small laugh. "You're a lot more expressive without your glasses, you know!"

Gritting his teeth, Dave pushed him away. "Don't even start with me, Egbert. Shit." Now he was really regretting leaving his glasses in the bathroom. Fuck. Why had he even left the apartment without them? It was dangerous in the hall. "Fuck."

John looked startled, and shuffled to his feet. "Sorry. Look, I'll just go get those, alright?"

Dave pinched his nose. "Shit. No. Just…just don't mention it, okay. Fuck."

"Yeah, sure," John replied. "Sorry. Crossed the line there."

"Don't worry about him, he's just an idiot." Bro grinned. "_His eyes can't lie_, you know."

John smiled slightly. "I do know."

"Fuck both of you," said Dave. "Just. Fuck you."

"Love you too, buddy." Bro flashed over and smacked him in the back of the head with an open palm. Dave facepalmed.

"I'm…just gonna go wash my face," John muttered, sheepishly going back into the apartment.

Sighing, Dave got to his feet. Bro put a hand on his shoulder.

"The fuck do you want," Dave asked.

"Hey, asshole. I'm proud of you," Bro said.

"Fuck you."


	82. Lens 82

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Cool guys don't cry. It's a rule. No, it's a law. No, it goes beyond even that. It's a physical inability, but not a handicap. It's a sign of pure, unadulterated strength.

Dave wasn't feeling so strong, though. His stomach was quivering like a jittery hummingbird, caught somewhere between nausea and shock.

Bro was dead.

No, that wasn't right. Bro wasn't dead. He _couldn't_ be dead. That bastard wouldn't even die, even if someone killed him. He'd just get back up and walk away like it was fucking _nothing_. If his head was cut off, hell, he'd just pick it up and run around scaring children like a fucking Ichabod Strider.

So _move_, _goddamn it_.

But Bro didn't move. Bro didn't breathe.

Bro was dead.

No, no, that still wasn't right. Bro would have to _let_ himself be killed, and that sure as hell was never going to happen. Not while Dave was around. This was probably some sick joke the asshole thought up, just another one of his puppet porn flicks.

That was it.

This wasn't Bro, this was a goddamn puppet. Soon it would rise, supported by invisible strings and the ventriloquist act would start. Hell, it happened with Lil Cal enough times. Why not now?

Dave waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Nothing happened.

Because Bro was dead.

Dave grit his teeth. _Obviously_ Bro was dead. He was being a child, imagining all these alternate possibilities. He was being a child and he sure as hell wasn't being cool.

Well, at least no one was there to see him. At least, he hoped so. His troll buddy sure as hell better have turned the damn viewer off like he told her to. He was not in the mood for putting up with troll shenanigans just then.

Unwilling to look at Bro's lifeless body any longer, he turned to watch the oil burn. He snorted. Lowas might as well be Lohac now, with all the fire. All that was missing was the goddamn clockwork and the Beat Mesa. But then, Bro would have to be there to scratch it up again. Who else would have performed such a reckless stunt?

He had to hand it to Bro, the guy had done some pretty fucked up stuff before he…

Died.

Careful to keep his eyes off the blood, the red blood, the tauntingly, irritating, insufferable red blood, he forced himself to return his gaze to the licking flames. If he weren't so cool, he might have let out a low whistle. He was in a freshly made hell-he a right to be suitably impressed. But Dave was cool and cool people didn't whistle so he just stared silently on.

Pretty quickly, he had run out of things to look at. A guy can only look at fire so long before it gets a little _too_ trippy.

His eyes were drawn back to Bro. Damn.

Maybe he should pull out the sword. It was a pretty sick sword. As much as Bro's taste in weaponry sucked, maybe it wouldn't break like every other piece of shit sword he had collected seemed to. It had been Bro's, after all, and Bro was even stronger. He had never lost a battle.

Until now.

His eyes flicked to Bro's face and Dave smirked. The stupid prick was still wearing his shitty pointy anime shades.

Dave had never once seen Bro's eyes.

Not his _real_ eyes, at any rate. He had fallen for it when he was younger, yeah, but he was pretty damn sure Bro had invested in a few pairs of cheap coloured contacts. He didn't have any proof, but it seemed like the sort of assholey thing his brother would do. That was his brother, ever the mysterious douchebag.

His hand trembled. Should he…should he take off Bro's shades? It was his last chance to settle the question that had been stuck in his mind for who-knows-how-many years.

No. _No_. That was defacing-a-corpse level of rudeness and Dave would not stand for it. Even in death, Bro had to be cool. The only other thing Dave could think of that would make his send-off real spectacular was to hold a full-on Viking fucking funeral, and that was a little impractical given the circumstances. Though, maybe a torch-the-corpse style send-off would be pretty similar?

No. _Jegus_. Shut the fuck up.

Dave shook his head, telling his thoughts to piss off. He wasn't going to touch the goddamn corpse, end of story.

The sword still looked pretty inviting, though. It was the closest thing Dave could get to an inheritance in this fucking game, too. A nice, legitimately useful keepsake.

He reached a hesitant, shaking hand out to take hold of the hilt.

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!_

HOLY SHIT.

Dave flinched, his heart nearly stopping in place. What the fuck was that?

His phone buzzed again and Dave's panicked mind was pulled back to reality. The phone. It was just his stupid fucking phone, stop being such a goddamn baby.

Someone was bothering him on Pesterchum. Well, might as well answer. Even the troll chicks couldn't keep their hands off him, it seemed. He was a Strider, after all, and it was time to do what Striders do best: be just _so damn impressive_ to other people.

His lips twitched.

Anything to get away from his thoughts.


	83. Lens 83

**AN: Thanks to the person who reminded me that Bro died on Lowas instead of Lohac. I wish I could claim artistic license, but I just have an unbelievably shitty memory hahahhaa This mistake was just more shameful than usual pfffhaha**

**Obscura ~ Age 16**

[tentacleTherapist has begun pestering turntechGodhead]

TT: Hello, Strider.

TG: oh god

TG: what do you want

TG: i thought i was free man

TG: free at fucking last

TG: you were finally gone and everything was fucking rainbows and sunshine

TG: and now youre here

TG: online

TG: talking to me

TT: I see you still haven't forgiven me, then.

TG: forgive whats there to forgive

TG: stealing my sweet shades and taking a gander at my demon peepers

TG: being all bitchy and touchy and inducing a spectacular vomit session

TG: asking me a million goddamn questions

TG: staring at me while i sleep and then trying to forcefeed me hippie grasswater

TG: then spouting a mountain of psychobabble bullshit and leaving out of the middle of fucking nowhere

TG: what needs to be forgiven

TT: Silly Strider.

TT: I think we made a real breakthrough.

TG: listen lalonde there is something you need to get through that pretty little head of yours

TG: i am NOT your patient

TG: there is no breakthrough because you are not treating me got it

TG: in fact what you are doing is called bothering

TG: youre bothering me

TG: because you cant keep that pointy nose out of my gogdamn business

TG: yes i have goddamn devil eyes what do you want from me

TG: do you want me to write a poem about it

TG: is that what you want

TT: You think I'm pretty?

TT: That in itself is a rather disturbing confession, Strider.

TT: I think you may have a possible Oedipal complex.

TT: Do you think of me as a mother figure, perhaps?

TT: I wouldn't be surprised after the show you put on when I visited.

TG: 

TG: fuck

TG: you

TT: All joking aside, I think you are missing something important.

TG: oh really

TG: what pray tell am i missing

TG: will it make all the bad bad things go away

TT: Ha. Ha.

TT: No.

TT: Strider, have you ever noticed that

TG: what

TT: You are quite the impatient little boy, aren't you?

TT: You should work on that.

TG: fucking tell me lalonde or i will just block your ass right now

TT: Very well.

TT: As I was saying,

TT: Oftentimes when referring to your eyes, you use the vernacular of the grimdark.

TG: oh really

TT: Yes, really.

TT: Demons and devils and other spooks.

TT: You use those comparisons often.

TG: well excuse me if i dont want to use shitty anime metaphors

TG: im not bro for fucks sake

TG: there is a limited number of comparisons you can make in this situation aside from anime and asshole vampires

TG: unless you want me to compare myself to i dont know fucking bunny rabbits or something

TT: Hm.

TG: oh god

TG: what now

TG: what did i say

TG: oh god oh god oh god

TT: Nothing.

TT: I was just amused.

TT: You would make a very good bunny rabbit.

TT: You're certainly starved for affection.

TG: what

TG: no

TG: what the hell

TG: what does that even mean

TT: You're awfully guarded, Strider.

TT: I think you're afraid.

TG: of fucking what

TG: im the fucking hero of time arent i theres nothing for me to be afraid of

TG: ill just zap back and fix shit like a goddamn time doctor

TT: I think you are very aware that you don't have that ability anymore.

TT: And I was, of course, referring to your fear of intimacy.

TG: what

TG: no

TG: im a goddamn player

TG: girls line up to get a piece of the strider

TG: i had to learn some ninja bullshit just to be able to get through the streets unmolested

TG: too many girls too little time

TT: Uh huh.

TT: Well, Strider, I'm here if you ever need to talk.

TG: why would i talk to you youd bring it back to i dont know my latent homosexual tendencies

TG: and dongs

TG: so many dongs

TT: I'm just making it clear to you.

TG: worse than one of bros videos just protruding fleshsticks everywhere

TT: I'm glad I found out, even if you aren't.

TT: So, I guess,

TT: Thank you.

[tentacleTherapist has ceased pestering turntechGodhead]

TG yeah well im NOT

TG: fuck


	84. Lens 84

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Verity crossed her legs, hands folded daintily in her lap. "Well?"

"Well _what_?" Bro replied, narrowing his eyes. "Why are you here? I thought you were never going to speak to me again. Or did you suddenly realize this whole grudge is completely fucking stupid?"

She laughed coldly and smiled her perfectly pointy smile. "No, I haven't forgiven you. I never _will_. I told you that, didn't I?"

"Then why the hell are you here, Verity?"

Ignoring the question, her eyes travelled across what little of the apartment she could see from her seat the kitchen. "I can't say I ever imagined you in a place like _this_."

"You say that like penthouse is a fucking _bad_ thing," Bro said.

"Do I detect a hint of anger?"

"Don't smile that damned crocodile smile at me. Don't think I can't tell the difference."

"Soooooooo defensive." She paused, chuckling humourlessly. "But then, I suppose you always were."

"Yeah, yeah. I was—am—a fucking guarded asshole. I thought that was clear when we started dating." Bro pulled his cap off and ran his fingers through his messy hair. "What do you want from me, man? What do you want me to fucking say?"

"Nothing."

"Then _why are you here_? Why are you stalking me after all these years?"

She pursed her painted blue lips. Even after all these years, her style was still the same. Sure, it was a _little_ more conservative—but barely. "Don't flatter yourself."

"_Answer the goddamn question._"

Verity sighed heavily, then flicked her cold gaze back up at him. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Fucking enlighten me."

"I want to see you _sweat_."

"If that's a come-on, it's not working."

"Silly Shades," she said, standing and walking over. She grinned her psychotic grin up at him and slapped him on the cheek a few times. "If I wanted to come on to you, I would. And I _wouldn't_ fail. But you knew that, didn't you?"

Bro grabbed her hand. "What do you want, Verity?"

"You take everything so _personally_. It's not like you, Shades!"

"Yeah, well, maybe if you'd stop harassing my lil bro I'd be a little happier."

"I didn't _harass_ him. I just wanted to _meet_ him, there's a difference."

"Yeah, well, not when it comes to you."

"I don't know. I'm not the one that decided to abandon him for a few days when he needed you most, hmmmmmmmm?"

"I swear to god, Verity, if you so much as _touch_ him—"

"Oh, please. I have bigger and better prey than that little brat." She touched her arm and Bro followed the gesture with his eyes.

"Hey," he said. "You've been moving funny ever since you got here. Did you…?"

"Oh? Is that a hint of concern I hear emanating from those pouty lips of yours, Shades?" Her eyes flashed dangerously and she tilted her head. "Or do you _pity_ me…?"

"Don't be such a bitch," he snapped.

"I can't help it. I was born this way." She laughed. "But you—"

"I knew that, yeah." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. She was standing close—too close—and it was hard to think. Her perfume was nostalgic. "Seriously, Verity, what do you want?" He was almost pleading now. He, Bro, the manliest man that ever lived, had been reduced to almost pleading. But not _quite_ pleading. He hadn't sunk that low.

Yet.

"Does everything require an ulterior motive?" Verity sounded almost disappointed.

"When it comes to you? Yes. Stop fucking around and give me a straight answer."

"To be honest, at first I wanted to meet the little bitch boy that stole you away from me. But I met him and he was pathetic, so I gave up. But now? I just wanted to see what happened to my old pal." She shrugged. "I wanted to know how far you had come. I know you, Shades. You were _talented_."

"And what, you think that's changed?"

"No. You're still talented." She sighed again. "That's why it pisses me off."

"Oh really? You're not satisfied?"

"Are you?"

"I think I've been pretty damn lucky, yeah."

"That's too bad." Verity picked up her purse and pressed by him to the front door. "Because I would have made you a star." Then, without turning to look at him again, she left.

Bro gave an exhausted snort as the door slammed shut behind her. "Yeah, yeah. I know, man. I know."


	85. Lens 85

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

Dave fought the spreading flush on his face desperately. This was not the time to be panicking. This was the time to be cool and suave and everything he was supposed to be.

But he was flipping the fuck out.

Jade curled her fingers into his shirt, pressing her lips to his. Shit. What was he supposed to do? Well, besides the obvious. This was what he had wanted, but…not like this.

"Harley…" He pushed her shoulders gently and she looked up.

"Yeah?"

"Harley, this is…" Shit, what was he supposed to say now?

"I'm sorry! I guess it was kind of sudden." She laughed nervously. "I guess it's just me then, huh? Sorry."

"What. No. Shit. It's not just you. Just…I don't want to do this to you, you know." That was a question.

She blinked, obviously not understanding. "Do what?"

"I don't know, take advantage of you." He felt the heat rising in his face again and quickly looked away. He couldn't keep eye contact for long—especially with his shades so far away. His chest felt uncomfortably tight.

"You…aren't doing that, though," she said slowly. "Right? I mean…I started it."

"I don't think that matters," he said blankly. "Shit, no. I just…fuck."

She giggled suddenly. "Wow, Dave. Seeing you flustered is pretty cute. I thought you were supposed to be a master of words." She grinned toothily at him and he glanced at her. He could feel the blush spreading like a damned infectious disease and forced himself to look away again. Goddammit.

"Shut up." This definitely wasn't cool.

She leaned against his shoulder. "Dave…"

"Sup."

"Will you, um…"

"What."

"Will you…hold me?"

"Oh. Yeah." Dave gave her a brief, apologetic kiss, then wrapped his arms around her. "Uh, is this okay."

"Yeah. Thanks." She sighed, resting her cheek against is chest. "Thanks, Dave. Really. I was going crazy before you came, but I feel a little calmer now."

"Yeah, no shit. I saw your room." He felt her flinch and knew he had said the wrong thing. Quickly, he added, "I'm glad you're okay."

"Dave?"

"Sup."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but your smell is kind of freaking me out."

Dave stared down at her, bewildered. "Uh. What. I stink or something. Fuck. I did just spend like two days on planes and in airports. Seriously, I can just go shower or something if you point me in the right direction."

"No, it's not… It's not that you smell bad or anything! You just…smell like you."

"And that's bad."

"No, it's…dammit, Dave, I can't explain. It just—it reminds me of—of—" Her shoulders shook and he pulled her tighter.

"It's okay, Harley. Just chill. I'm not going to get mad or anything stupid like that."

"Dave, it reminds me of…of when Bec Noir killed you. It…it hurts. It's scary."

He stroked her hair absently with one hand. "I know. I'm sorry you had to see that, Harley, I really am. Shit. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let myself—"

"It's not your fault!" she exclaimed, gripping his shirt so tightly that she clawed at the skin on his sides. He winced but said nothing.

"Shit. Just calm down. It's okay."

"It's not okay!"

"_It's okay_," he insisted. "Seriously. It doesn't matter anymore. We're both fine."

"I—I don't feel fine!" She leaned in to him, pressing her forehead to his collarbones. "Dave, I don't feel fine. I'm so scared, all the time, and I don't know why."

"Yeah." He rested his chin on the top of her head. "I know. I know, man, trust me."

"I don't want to feel like this anymore."

"I don't want you to, either." He sighed.

"Dave, I'm scared."

"I know."

"Really, really scared."

"I know." He pulled his hands back and brushed her cheek. "I know, Harley. It's okay, though. I'm here now. I'll protect you."

But that was a lie. Dave couldn't even protect himself. He had failed in-game and he would fail again if push ever came to shove. He just wasn't a hero. He was slipping every bit as much as Jade was, except he had years of experience to teach him how to push it down, keep calm and carry on with his damn business.

He wasn't even sure if that was a good thing.

How could he save her if he couldn't take care of his own shitty problems?

Dave held her tighter, trying to keep his breathing even. Shit. What was he supposed to do now? She was just clinging to him quietly and he couldn't do a thing to help her.

"Harley, I—"

But Jade had suddenly crashed her lips against his, pinning him to the couch. Holy shit. What was happening? His mind went blank. Shit. Shit. No. Think, dumbass, fucking _think_.

But he had forgotten how.


	86. Lens 86

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

"YOU FUCKING FUCK…FUCK!"

Dave stared blankly at the face of his screaming roommate, the face that had always seemed to be in a perpetual state of grumpiness, now contorted with rage. "Uh."

"IS THAT ALL YOU CAN SAY YOU TILE-LICKING TOAD PUSTULE?" Kaden shouted back. "OR ARE YOU NOT FINISHED YET? WOULD YOU PREFER TO GO SLEEP WITH A FEW OF MY OTHER FRIENDS FIRST? WOULD THAT SATISF—STOP LAUGHING!" Kaden spun around to face Teresa.

"I—can't!" she replied, clutching a stitch in her side and gasping for breath. She clung to the door frame for support, body wracked with spasms of laughter. "This is too funny! You're blowing this way out of proportion, shorty."

"FUCK YOU," Kaden replied. "FUCK YOU FOR BEING THE PERSON I SO STUPIDLY FELL IN LOVE WITH. WHAT WAS I EVEN THINKING, GOING OUT WITH A PERSON LIKE YOU? I SHOULD WIN AWARDS FOR BAD FUCKING JUDGEMENT!"

"Uhh okay, guys, this is great and all, but can you take your dysfunctional sadomasochistic relationship out in the hall or something. Really, literally anywhere that is not my room would be great," Dave requested.

"NO. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU, YOU GLASSES-WEARING MONKEY IN JEANS. I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON YOUR OWN BILE," Kaden raged. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT."

"Hehehe," giggled Teresa, unable to control herself.

"STOP LAUGHING! THIS IS YOUR FAULT, TOO! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, GOING OUT AND JUST HAVING ALL KINDS OF SLOPPY MAKEOUTS WITH THIS FUCKASS? AND, MIGHT I ADD, ASKING ME FOR A FUCKING RIDE HOME RIGHT FUCKING AFTER. THAT WAS BRILLIANT."

Teresa shrugged. "It was late! I'm a girl! A _blind_ girl! It is dangerous to go alone." She grinned her maniacal grin. "You are really taking this too personally! It was no different than slapping a hysterical man back to sanity."

"YEAH, EXCEPT YOU DID IT WITH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH," Kaden replied. "GOOD JOB ON THAT, BY THE WAY. FUCKING SPECTACULAR."

"He didn't even enjoy it! I don't see what the big deal is."

Kaden turned back to Dave, voice cracking with sheer anger. "YOU DIDN'T _ENJOY_ IT?"

"Whoa, what the hell, why are you getting pissed about _that_," Dave said, dumfounded. "That is fucking idiotic, man. Out of all the things you should be raging over, that is like the least of them. Or did you just miss the part where she didn't say that _she_ didn't enjoy it."

"_Did you?_" Kaden whipped around to Teresa again. She just laughed harder, finding it impossible to stand up straight.

"Oh, calm your stupid pants. I thought it was funny! He was flipping out. I wanted to see how he reacted!" She managed to calm down for a moment and waved a dismissive hand. As an afterthought, she added, "And I wasn't disappointed!" She laughed in Dave's general direction, then turned her head back to Kaden. "But in any case, it is not what you are thinking. Dave is my brofriend. You are my boyfriend! Those are two different things. I don't see what the big deal is."

"THE BIG DEAL?" Kaden's voice cracked again, peaking mid-sentence. "THE BIG DEAL IS THAT YOU WERE MAKING OUT WITH ANOTHER GUY."

"I told you already! It was like a slap to cure hysteria. I slapped him with my face."

"WITH YOUR LIPS!"

"Lips are on the face, stupid shorty."

Kaden growled, pinching his nose. "Okay. Okay. If you _really_ don't think it means anything, then _why the fuck did you tell me?_ I would've been perfectly happy not knowing!"

"It is like you don't know me at all," Teresa chuckled.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I think it should be obvious by now!" She grinned wider. "I wanted to see _your_ reaction!"

Dave groaned and did a x2 facepalm combo. "Jegus. Why are you trying to make life so hard. You know he's a fucking drama whore, why did you do this."

"Because it seemed fun!" Teresa replied. "Duh! And I was _right_!"

"You're right, man," Dave said to Kaden. "You have shitty taste in women."

"He has _awesome_ taste!" Teresa corrected. "Because I am amazing. Isn't that right? Now come on, idiot, I'll buy you a candy apple and you can bitch about your mushy little feelings some more. See you later, Dave! Hehehe, get it? See you? Blind jokes! I am so witty." Without a moment's hesitation, Teresa groped around mid-air, snatched up the back of Kaden's shirt and dragged him awkwardly from the room. Before Kaden disappeared through the door, the two youths shared an expression of stunned disbelief (though Dave's was well hidden behind his tinted shades).

"Poor bastard," Dave muttered, turning back to his textbook.

"I heard that!" Teresa sang. Dave jumped. The crazy bitch was standing just outside his locked door in the hallway. He could hear her tapping her cane against the wall. Goddamn.

He then heard a muffled, "Heard _what_?" from Kaden, and there was silence once more.

Blessed, blessed silence.


	87. Lens 87

**Obscura ~ Age 20**

Dave sat awkwardly at the foot of the bed, waiting for some sort of cue to tell him what he was supposed to do. He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

"Fuck, Lalonde, what the hell," he said at last.

Rose's eyes flicked up from the hefty tome she had been leafing through. "Pardon? I am rather unaware of the source of your assumed discomfort."

"You, obviously," he growled.

She paused, pursing her lips. "Yes, I am very conscious of your intense dislike of me."

"What—no, Jegus, Lalonde, I don't hate you. What the hell are you saying." Dave rubbed his eyes beneath his shades, irritated. "I don't even dislike you. Jegus. What are you going on about, saying that I—" But he raised his gaze and caught her smirking at him. "Oh, for fuck's sake. You know what. I take that all back. You are a major bitch and I can't wait to leave."

"And I love you, too, Strider," she chuckled. "I am very pleased that you are going to be staying with me for such a lengthy period of time."

"Okay, that was definitely sarcasm."

"No." She shrugged. "I thought I would try being genuine for once. Does it not suit me?"

"No. No, it really fucking doesn't. Jegus. And you make it sound like it's just going to be us. Don't do that. That's fucking creepy. You are the sketchy dude in the scratched up van with blacked out windows offering kids candy and puppies. That is your level of creep, Lalonde. It is that much."

"Basing this on personal experience, are we, Strider? Did he tell you he had poorly drawn cartoons? Or perhaps puppet porn?"

"No, fuck you. That did not happen. When are the others getting here, anyway. Fuck. They're always late."

"Not everyone has mastered the sacred art of flashstepping."

"You make it sound like I ran across the goddamn country. I took a fucking bus."

Rose set her book on the table and folded her hands daintily on her crossed knees. "Anxious?"

"About fucking _what_."

Rose smiled and Dave flinched. Rose _never_ smiled. Not around him, anyway. Not like that. She had surpassed her creepy levels and was now into the range of downright disturbing. She was a horrorterror. It was her.

"Reuniting with our lovely Miss Harley again, of course. It has been quite some time since your last…escapades…hasn't it?"

Dave gaped. "You…holy shit…. She… Oh gog. Oh gog oh gog oh gog oh—"

"Close your mouth, Strider, before you let the flies in."

Dave snapped his mouth shut. "You…she couldn't possibly…"

"Yes, that's right. Very good. You're well on your way to forming a complete sentence! I am so proud of you." Rose was enjoying this far too much for Dave's liking. Then again, any entertainment she gleaned from it at all was too much.

Suppressing a frustrated groan, Dave covered his face in his hands. "Fuck. You're all against me, aren't you. You're just all plotting against me. This is a fucking game to you, isn't it. And all of you are in on it."

Rose's mouth twitched. "It is not a game," she said quietly.

"You are just all fucking with me, aren't you, this is fun for—"

"It is not a game," she repeated. "And if you think it is, Strider, I will do everything in my power to exact revenge upon you."

"Yeah, you'll curse my goddamn dick off, wasn't that what you said that other ti—"

"I will do far worse than that," she warned. "So do not take this lightly. We are all balanced on a very precarious ledge, and if you even _dare_ to damage all our work even _slightly_…" She let the end of the sentence hang ominously in the air, eyes cold and serious.

"…yeah," said Dave. "Yeah. I get it. Jegus. It's like you think I don't. Trust me, Lalonde, I fucking get it. You don't have to get all protective on me. I'm not going to fuck this up."

"That's what you say," she replied. "Let's see if your words match the outcome, hm? I will be watching."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, god. You are one scary sister, you know that. Don't go all Wednesday Adams on my ass, Jesus."

"Very well. If you'll excuse me, I am going to get the door."

"What. Why. What are you talking about. No one—"

_Diiiing dooong_.

"Holy shit," said Dave. "Holy shit. You'd better not be taking Harley's place for psychic, man, we don't need any more of that bullshit."

Rose just smiled a thin smile, then turned to go. "Indeed."


	88. Lens 88

**Obscura ~ Age -1**

"I can't believe you'd do something this stupid. You've done a lot of reckless things, but this—"

"Worried?"

"No, I was waiting for you to just kick the bucket-_of course I'm fucking worried_." Strider adjusted his glasses. "Jesus, I got the call in the middle of the night. You gave me a fucking heart attack."

She narrowed her eyes and glanced at the door, annoyed. "I told them not to call!"

"Why am I your emergency contact, anyway?" Strider slumped down into the visitor's chair. "Pretty sure last time I checked, you still have family."

"What, you think I'd trust them with something so important?"

"You mean _you_?"

"Exactly!" She leaned back against the pillow, faded blue lips pulled into a tight smirk.

"You are utterly insufferable."

"You think _you_ have it bad? Think of the nurses."

"Oh Jesus. Don't kill anyone, okay?" He paused. "Shit. You didn't kill anyone, did you?"

"Not yet, no," she replied.

"Don't be a bitch. You know what I mean."

"No, I did not kill little Miss Goody-goody Sociopath. In fact, she got off better than I did. You think I'd be alive if I had done something to her?" She gave a sharp laugh.

"She's your family."

"So? That doesn't mean anything. It's not like you can compare." She shrugged.

Strider snorted. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Oh, don't make that face. It doesn't suit those rugged features." She reached over with her good hand and gave him a sloppy slap on the cheek. "You know I'm right."

"Pain meds that strong, huh? You barely fucking grazed me."

"Yeah, man, they are so good. _You don't even know_," she replied, laughing. "This is like the best fucking trip. I recommend it."

Strider shook his head. "You're hopeless."

Verity grinned. "Then why are you still here?"

"Touche." Strider leaned on the bed. "So…I guess, how are you?"

"I just told you. _Drugs!_"

"Ha. Ha. You know what I fucking mean."

She frowned slightly, looking out the window. "It's pretty bright outside today."

"Focus, Verity."

"I don't want to." She sighed and slumped back. "Does it even matter? Why do you care?"

"Just fucking tell me."

"They said it probably won't move properly anymore, even after it heals." Her eyes flicked back to the window. "Well, it looks like I won't be playing guitar again." She shrugged, brushing her fingertips gingerly against her bandaged arm. "You don't want it, do you? I guess you don't. You're a master DJ through and through. No need to pollute that with—"

"Verity."

"What? Here I was, all ready to launch into a beautiful speech and you just—"

Strider cut her off mid-sentence with a kiss. "Jesus. You're a fucking idiot."

"Fuck you, too!" she snapped. "And don't touch me!" She flinched and swatted his hand away. "There aren't enough drugs in the goddamn world for anyone to touch me right now!"

Ignoring her, he sat on the side of the too-white hospital bed. "Fuck guitar. You still have your voice, don't you? You were a shitty player, anyway. Stick to vocals."

"Screw you."

"Nah, man, that's no fun. I'll wait for you." He grinned.

"Shut up, jerk."

"Bitch."

Verity gave a long, drawn-out sigh. "You know what this means, right?"

"That I don't have to fix your broken strings anymore?"

She narrowed her eyes, then gave the pointed smile he had come to expect. "It means that the plan has changed."

"Oh yeah? And how's that?"

"Now I'm going to make _you_ the star."

Strider snorted. "Yeah? I look forward to it, then."


	89. Lens 89

**Obscura ~ Age 15**

"I'm not taking my gogdamn glasses off, Lalonde, and there is nothing you can say that will dissuade me from this particular course of action _is that clear_." Dave set his utensils down and leaned back, eyes narrowed behind his tinted specs.

"What if I were to just…forcibly take them off?"

"Violence would probably occur."

"Oh really? You'd hit a girl? That's not very gentlemanly of you."

"You aren't a girl. You're a horrorterror sent from the pits of hell to play mind games with me for your own sick amusement."

Rose snorted. "Is that so?"

"When have you proven otherwise."

"Well, if you are so opposed to spending time with me, there's nothing keeping you here."

"Fan-fucking-tastic. You could have told me that hours ago, Lalonde, nice job keeping that shit all bottled up. I thought you psychiabitches were all about breaking down the dams, man."

Rose traced a circle on the table with her finger for a few minutes, then stood. "I'm going to make tea."

"What the hell. What kind of reply is _that_."

"I was wondering if you'd like a cup before you left," she replied mildly.

Dave made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. "Jegus. I'm not going anywhere."

"You just thought you'd threaten me? I'm afraid it wasn't as effective as you had probably hoped." Rose lifted the kettle into the sink and filled it, then returned it to the heating pad. She switched it on and turned around, leaning against the counter, regarding Dave carefully.

"What, you think I'm an asshole. Well, yeah, you obviously do. Jegus. What do you want from me, Lalonde. I don't get it. Why am I here."

"Am I not allowed to wish for company once and a while?"

"Hey…"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay and everything, Lalonde. Do you want to talk to me about something."

Rose snorted derisively. "Talk to _you_? No, I am perfectly fine, Strider. Though I am impressed you actually managed to force yourself to ask such a question, I cannot fathom _why_."

"Maybe I'm fucking worried about my goddamn sister," Dave growled. "Not everything is a passive aggressive battle."

"Really? I rather thought it ran in the family."

"Rose," he said, "why am I here."

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

"No, I do not want your vegan hippie chick boiled grasswater," Dave said. "Why. Am. I. _Here._"

Rose didn't respond for quite a while. She poured water into an impressively ornate teacup, pulled a pinch of tealeaves from a box, dropped them into a tea infuser, and dipped it into the cup. Still whirling the infuser in the cup, she sat at the table once more, crossing her legs. Finally, she set the teacup on the table and looked up at Dave, seemingly sizing him up.

"I'm being pretty patient, here, Lalonde. Spit it out already."

She sighed. "Perhaps I have been seeing things that aren't really there."

"You've been…seeing things," Dave asked. "Like what."

"Oh, whatever constitutes for normal psychodrabble," she replied. "I was seeing symptoms in you where perhaps there were none."

"Oh. That's what you meant. Wait, what. I don't get it."

"Sometimes I can't quite see how we could possibly be related." Rose lifted the teacup to her lips and blew at the slowly rising steam. "I was worried."

"Worried?"

"I wanted to see how you were holding up, Strider."

"What the hell does that mean."

Rose pursed her lips. When she spoke, it was clear she was choosing her words carefully—even more than usual. "Not everyone manages as well as I do under these sorts of…strenuous…circumstances."

"What are you talking about."

"Nothing. Perhaps I was overestimating you." She reached over and slapped him a couple times on the cheek. Dave flinched, startled.

"Holy shit. I was not expecting that," Dave said, still stunned.

She smirked. "Which?"

"What."

Chuckling rather ominously, Rose stood and returned her cup to the sink. "Never mind. Thank you for coming, Strider. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, whatever. No problem."

"Good brother. Best friend."

"Don't do that, Jegus."

"Well, I do believe it is time to retire. Good night, Strider."

"Yeah. Night, Lalonde."

"Sweet dreams."


	90. Lens 90

**Obscura ~ Age 16**

"Good morning, Strider."

Dave sat up suddenly, banging his head on a nearby lamp. Cursing, he rubbed his head, glaring up with watering eyes at his sister. "The fuck are you still here for."

"Always the tone of accusation," she said, smirking. "_You_ told me that I could stay."

"I think I would remember that."

"You seem to think you would remember lots of things, though you have yet to show me any proof."

"Fuck, Lalonde, what do you want from me." He dragged his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. He froze. "Where are my shades. Fuck. I need them."

"You only _think_ you need them," Rose replied evenly.

"No, I really _really_ fucking need them because Bro is going to kick my gogdamn ass if he finds out I took them off."

"You didn't take them off, Strider. I did," Rose replied. "And he is your _brother_. He will respect you."

"As much as you respect _me_," Dave asked, irritated. Rose hesitated.

"Look, I understand that my course of action may not have been the most advisa—"

"_May_," Dave repeated. "Try a little fucking harder with that apology. Or is getting friends to spew their lunches standard psychiatric practice these days."

"Strider, I'm sorry."

"Great. Give me my fucking glasses back."

"Not yet." She sat beside him on the couch, viewing his face carefully.

Dave narrowed his eyes and looked away. She had done enough. He didn't need her analyzing his every expression. "Give them back."

"I think I'm starting to see the family resemblance," she mused.

"Fan-fucking-tastic. Give them back."

As expected, Rose continued to ignore him. "Does your head hurt? Do you feel feverish?" She pressed her hand to his forehead and he snapped.

"Fuck!" He snatched her wrist and squeezed it painfully tight, his red eyes boring angrily into her purple ones. "For fuck's sake, Lalonde, this isn't a goddamn game. For someone who wants to go into psychology, you're doing a great fucking job here. I hope you don't do this to all your patients or you'll have a shitload of malpractice lawsuits on your ass. Give me my glasses back."

Rose twisted in his grip, but was unable to escape. "Strider!"

"Jesus, Lalonde, this isn't some exposure therapy bullshit. These lights are giving me a goddamn migraine and it fucking _hurts_."

"Yes, well, you aren't being very level-headed, yourself!" Promptly, Rose kneed him in the stomach. Dave crumpled and released her.

"Fuck," Dave groaned. Feeling slightly apologetic, Rose wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into an embrace.

"I know it's hard, Strider. I'm sorry you had to go through something like this."

"Bullshit. Everyone has problems," came his muffled reply.

"Maybe," she replied. "But you are my brother. I want you to be okay with this."

"Yeah, well, I'm not."

"You are my friend, too."

Dave squirmed, but Rose held him fast. "Lalonde, this is really awkward. Can you stop. Please. Jesus. I swear to gog I won't grab you again or anything, just let go."

"I know. That's how comforting is, Strider. You don't always get to be the big man in the situation."

"No, really. Lalonde. This is exceedingly awkward."

"You're just not used to it," she said kindly.

"_No, Rose, seriously, your tits are all up in my face and that is just not cool_," Dave said.

"Oh." Rose quickly released him and he pulled back. "That may be indicative of of a sister—"

"If you say 'sister complex', I swear to gog, I am kicking you out on the street right the fuck _now_."

"How about homose—"

"I will throw you off the goddamn roof."

"Duly noted," she replied, though her lips twitched in amusement. "Well, now I assume you have _yet another_ reason not to meet my gaze, hmm? You should be grateful."

"Fuck you," Dave replied. "Fuck you and everything you… Just, fuck you."

"Then, I will present to you a peace offering." Rose slipped Dave's shades from the pocket of her skirt and held them out to him. In a flash, he had snatched them up and returned them to their rightful place: on his face.

"Fuck," said Dave. The sudden darkness was soothing to his aching temples.

"You are quite welcome."

"Fuck you for taking them."

"What's a big sister for?" She smirked.

Dave glanced over at her. It was easier to look at Rose now that his eyes were once again hidden behind the tinted glass. "You…you really care that much, huh."

"Of course. You are my brofriend after all." It was obvious that she was stifling laughter now.

"Flighty broad," Dave mumbled.

She gave him a rather cruel look. "Did you say something, Strider? Need I pull out my book of the grimdark?"

Quickly, Dave turned away. It wasn't worth an eternity of cocklessness for this. "Not a thing. Not a damn thing."

"Very good." Rose stood, brushing off her skirt. "Well, I suppose I should take my leave."

"You—what. Already. Seriously."

"You want me to stay?"

"No. No, I don't. No. No."

"Four 'no's. That's pretty impressive." She slapped him on the cheek a few times, smirking. "Maybe next time I'll get to five, maybe even six."

"Yeah, maybe." Dave got to his feet. "Are you, uh, sure it's ok to just leave."

"Why wouldn't it be? I did what I came here to do. You performed admirably."

"Fuck you, you condescending, bitchy occult freak."

"I love you, too, Strider." She paused, then threw her arms around him again. "Thank you for having me. It was…enjoyable."

Dave stiffened. "Yeah, whatever. Get the fuck off me. And if you tell anyone, Lalonde, I will end you faster than the long flash of a popular series ends the server capabilities of its temporary hosting site."

"I don't doubt it." Rose patted him once on the back, turned, and left.

As soon as the apartment door closed, Dave's knees buckled and he collapsed back against the couch, exhausted. Fuck. Well, that had been an eventful couple of days.

He hoped to the insufferable troll gods that it would never happen again, but in the back of his mind, he knew it would. Two out of three and no end in sight.

After all, Harley still didn't know.


	91. Lens 91

Obscura ~ Age 20

Dave sat up quietly, eyes fixed on John, searching for any signs of movement. No, the kid was asleep. It was fine. He'd probably been up so long, he'd crashed the moment his head touched the goddamn pillow.

Dave slowly reached out to the table for his phone, listening intently. Good. John hadn't stirred.

With one hand squeezing the phone tightly, he muffled the electronic buzz as he turned the vibrate setting off. Now he could text in silence.

And it was about fucking time, too.

[turntechGodhead has begun pestering tentacleTherapist]

TG: yo

TT: Ah, Strider.

TT: How is it going?

TT: Or, perhaps, more importantly

TT: Is he watching you right now?

TG: no hes asleep

TG: like a little fucking baby

TG: all tuckered out jesus

TG: that asshole stayed awake all night you know

TT: So did you.

TG: yeah so

TG: what are you insinuating lalonde

TT: Nothing.

TT: I am just commenting.

TG: im not going to turn into harley so calm your goddamn tits

TT: I assure you

TT: My breasts are completely calm.

TG: im not having this discussion with you

TG: im not

TT: How was the bus ride?

TG: hours

TG: hours of sitting in that fucking bus

TG: i think some hobo licked me

TG: it was horrible

TG: i told you that already

TG: while it was fucking happening why are you making me relive this

TG: he was fucking creepy

TT: Ah, the things we do for friends.

TG: im never doing that again

TG: ill walk here next time if i have to

TT: Somehow

TT: I doubt that.

TG: yeah i guess not

TG: a guy can dream cant he though jesus

TT: How is he?

TG: i told you hes asleep

TT: Don't be smart.

TT: It doesn't suit you.

TT: You know exactly what I mean.

TG: yeah yeah jesus give me a break i dont even remember what sleep feels like

TG: here i am doing the courtesy of giving you my awesome report

TG: and you just bitch at me

TT: I wouldn't have to "bitch" at you if you would just get on with the report.

Dave sighed, glancing over at the softly snoring Egbert. At least he was out for the night. It meant Dave could take care of business without John freaking out at him.

Which he would, if he ever found out.

TG: well i got him to sleep so i guess thats something

TG: jesus rose hes so skinny

TG: its kind of freaking me out

TG: and hes so fucking white did he even go outside

TG: like

TG: ever

TG: in eight years

TG: he mustve right

TG: jesus

The rustling of blankets.

Dave tensed, blocking the light of his phone with his palm.

Don't wake up don't wake up don't wake up don't wake up…

TG: oh shit hes waking up

TG: false alarm

Dave breathed a quiet sigh of relief. That could have ended badly. Maybe the idiot troll gods had smiled on him and decided to share ALL OF THE LUCK.

Or, at least, some of it.

TG: …

A sliver of white caught Dave's eye and he fidgeted uncomfortably.

TT: Strider?

TG: sup

TT: Is something wrong?

TG: no

TG: yes

TG: i can see them

TT: "Them"?

TG: yes them

TT: What are you

TT: Oh.

TT: The scars?

TG: yeah the scars

TG: fuck the game

TG: im pulling his shirt down jesus egbert learn to sleep like a goddamn person and keep your clothes on

TG: i know im sexy but there are limits

Ever so carefully, Dave reached over and pulled the hem of John's shirt back down so that it covered the marks on his chest. Dave had seen them before, of course, but it wasn't something he liked to think about.

Then again, if even he felt like that, he couldn't imagine what it was like for John.

Poor kid.

TT: Did you tell Harley?

TG: what about the scars shes known as long as you have man

TG: you arent the only one im relying on here

TT: I am well aware.

TT: I meant

TT: Did you tell Harley what you were doing?

TG: yeah i texted her on the bus like i texted you why did you think i wouldnt

TT: Is she alright?

TG: she sounded kind of tired but

Dave froze, his heart pounding against his chest. Did Rose mean that…

TG: shit wait

TG: do you know something?

TG: did something happen?

TT: No.

TT: Strider, calm down.

TT: Stop panicking.

TG: im not fucking panicking tell me if something fucking happened lalonde i swear to gog

TG: god

TG: fuck

TT: Strider, nothing has happened.

TT: I wasn't implying anything had.

TT: I was just curious.

TT: She talks to you the most, remember.

TT: At least, she talks to you outside of mundane internet messages.

TT: i.e. phone calls.

TG: yeah yeah

TG: i dont know i think shes going through a bit of a rough patch but

TG: right now egbert is the priority right

TG: shit i don't know what to do

TG: maybe shes lying

TT: The possibility exists, yes.

TG: thanks

TG: that made me feel all fucking better

TG: not like an asshole at all

TT: Well, it is the truth.

TT: Just focus on John for now, Strider.

TT: I will take care of Harley if anything happens.

TT: You can trust me on that.

TG: can i

TG: can i really

TT: Of course.

TG: what am i doing

TG: hell kill me if he finds out you know

TG: hell be so pissed

TT: Yes.

TT: That possibility also exists.

TT: That is why you have to make sure he doesn't find out.

TG: yeah fucking simple

TG: its not like hes you know

TG: paranoid or anything that might really throw a kink into our plans

TG: oh wait

TG: he totally is

TT: Your attempt at humour is rather pathetic, Strider.

TG: whos trying to be funny

Dave rubbed his eyes beneath the glasses. His head was starting to hurt and his stomach was still clenched in an uncomfortable knot. He wasn't cut out for this sort of thing, he really wasn't. He couldn't figure out why the others seemed to think he was.

When did he become a fucking therapist? That was Rose's job.

TG: fuck i feel like shit

TT: Strider.

TG: sup

TT: If at any point during this excursion, you feel like you are not up to it

TT: Please contact me.

TT: You'll promise me that, won't you?

TT: I know you have problems, too.

TT: I refuse to let you take on more than you can handle.

TG: what no im fucking peachy

TG: save for the being touched by a bus hobo half the night im totally fine

TG: that fucker

TG: no dont worry about me im not going to pull a

TG: well either of these guys

TT: That is what you say.

TG: you dont believe me

TT: Don't take it personally.

TT: I don't believe anyone anymore.

TG: …yeah

TG: i feel you on that

TG: fuck

John gave a halting shudder and Dave froze once more. It was getting too risky. He would have to end it before the kid really did wake up.

TG: alright hes moving again im out

TG: peace

TT: Good luck.

[turntechGodhead has ceased pestering tentacleTherapist]


	92. Lens 92

Obscura ~ Age 20

EB: your sister just bought me a plane ticket!

Dave glanced down at the phone in his hand, raising an eyebrow in the barely perceptible manner of the coolkid.

TG: okay

EB: dave that's a lot of money!

TG: yeah

TG: so

EB: i was going to buy it! she didn't even give me the option! she just went ahead and bought them when i was talking to dad!

TG: maybe thats because you always pay for it

TG: and by it i mean everything

TG: fucking everything

EB: i'm just trying to be a good boyfriend!

TG: yeah well lalondes weird shes not going to think thats fair or some bullshit

TG: or i guess you know

TG: logic

EB: urrrghhh dave

TG: sorry bro im on her side for this

EB: but she didn't even ask! she just went ahead and did it!

EB: what if dad had said no?

EB: what if i had said no?

Dave rubbed his temples between his thumb and forefinger. Jade shifted on the couch beside him, muttering something about squiddles. He made a mental note to make sure they watched something other than that shitty program when she woke up.

TG: egbert

TG: she knew you wouldnt say no

TG: we all know

TG: its not something you do

EB: dave!

TG: look she probably didnt ask you because she knew youd be a little dick and fight her on it

TG: so she just decided to go ahead and buy them without all the argument

EB: i would have bought it!

EB: i could totally charm her into agreeing!

TG: maybe thats why she skipped out

Dave wasn't going to touch on the whole "Dad" thing, either. He wasn't completely privy to all the details, but he knew Rose had contacted John's father at least a week earlier. In fact, they were all very much in contact with John's father since around the time John had turned twenty.

EB: well

EB: i guess i have stuff to do

TG: yeah you have to pack dont you

EB: yeah the plane leaves in a few

EB: wait

EB: dave

EB: dave did you know?

Fuck. Well, there went that bit of ambiguity. Dave sighed and tapped a reply out on the keypad.

TG: yeah

EB: so then

EB: you know why…?

EB: dave you know why?

TG: jesus chill

TG: i knew she was doing something like this and i knew when the tickets were for

TG: i dont know why

TG: though i can guess

EB: …damn

TG: yeah

TG: so you gonna tell me about it or am i going to have to ask lalonde

EB: i guess so

EB: i had a bit of a freak out

EB: so rose asked me to

TG: go live with her yeah

EB: you knew that too?

EB: fuck

EB: is there anything you don't know! this is starting to piss me off!

EB: do you all just talk about me when i'm not there?

TG: yeah we have these parties where we make fun of your shitty movies and stupid hair

TG: jesus

TG: no that is not something we do egbert

EB: then why do you know all of these things?

EB: why do i even have to tell you?

TG: yeah well i know SOME things obviously jegus

TG: or do you want me to just

TG: not give a shit i can do that too

EB: maybe i would then!

TG: sorry bro i lied

TG: thats not happening

EB: dave answer me

EB: why do you know all of this

EB: before even i do!

TG: harleys here

EB: what?

EB: what do you mean?

TG: harley is living here

EB: …she is?

TG: yeah

EB: how is she?

Dave glanced over to the bundle of blankets beside him. Every so often, it would twitch as Jade rolled into a new position, then go back to a motionless, faintly snoring pile.

TG: shes asleep

EB: …that's good.

TG: yeah

EB: i hadn't heard from her in a while

EB: i was getting kind of worried

TG: yeah

EB: tell her to maybe text me?

EB: unless she's mad at me…

TG: i dont think shes mad i think she just forgot

TG: shes kind of just been sleeping

TG: ill tell her when she wakes up though

EB: …good

EB: you don't have to do that

TG: well i wasnt about to just wake her up now

EB: it's fine i know she's okay now

EB: and dave

EB: this doesn't mean i forgive you

EB: i know you're just changing the subject

TG: no dumbass thats why i know

TG: it gave lalonde the idea

EB: jade living with you?

TG: yeah

EB: how long is she staying?

TG: for a while at least

EB: why would she live with you when she could live with rose?

TG: …thanks asshole

EB: well come on!

EB: rose has that house!

EB: it's huuuge

TG: yeah i am well fucking aware of that

TG: john don't be a jerk!

TG: besides dave was the one who offered : )

Fruitlessly, Dave tried to wrestle his phone back from the now awake Jade. She giggled and elbowed him in the gut.

"Ow, jesus," he grunted. "The fuck are you doing."

"Talking to my brother, of course," Jade replied, leaning against his shoulder. "He's right, I haven't talked to him in forever."

"Way to read my chat log."

"No problem!"

"…Hey."

"What's up?"

"Do you really mean that."

"Mean what? You're being pretty cryptic today, Dave. More than usual! Are you trying to hide the puppets again?"

"What. No. Oh god. I can't believe you found those. I hate Bro so much right now. No, fuck, don't go off topic. Did you only come here because I offered."

"Uh, yeah? I thought it would be rude if I just got Bec to zap me here." Jade pulled the blankets closer. "Besides, who knew what kind of sketchy puppets would be left out in the viewing open if I had."

"No. Fuck. That's not what I meant."

Jade laughed, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "I know. Dave, even if Rose had asked, I would totally come here. It's really cozy!"

"Yeah. Wait really. Seriously. Here. You think it's cozy here."

"Yeah! See, if you pile smuppets together they make this nice little nes—"

"Fuck, I told you not to touch those, you don't know where they've been."

"I was kidding, Dave."

"Yeah, I… Fuck. Maybe I'm tired."

"You look tired."

Sighing, Dave said, "Am I ever going to get that phone back."

Jade grinned. "Nope! I'm having some quality brother-sister time with John!"

"Will you at least sign onto your own account."

"Nope! Brother-sister time!"

"That doesn't even—"

"Nope!"

EB: so i guess you woke up then

TG: yup!

EB: how are you feeling?

TG: i'm okay now : )

EB: but you weren't before…?

TG: don't worry about me, john

TG: dave's got it aaall under control! : D

EB: …jade i don't really want to hear about that from my sister

TG: don't be stupid! we've been watching old squiddlebuddy episodes!

EB: really?

EB: dave is watching that?

TG: yup!

EB: hehehe

EB: i bet he loves that

TG: he says he's been appreciating them ironically

TG: i think he likes them

EB: you should tell him that

TG: i already did! : D

TG: but john

TG: i'm really worried about you!

TG: it's good you're going to rose's though

TG: she'll take good care of you!

EB: …yeah

EB: okay i guess i should do some packing

EB: ugh it's so irritating

TG: you can do it!

TG: just remember that you'll get to see rose soon! : D

EB: yeah

EB: tell dave i'll talk to him later okay?

TG: sure!

EB: bye

TG: bye!

[ectoBiologist has ceased pestering turntechGodhead]


	93. Lens 93

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

"Help me."

Bro paused in the doorway, bottle of icy water still in hand. "What?"

"You fucking heard me the first time, don't make me say it again."

"Alright," Bro allowed, folding his arm. "What do you want me to help you with?"

"Don't act like you don't know, asshole."

Bro sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Hang on." He drained the rest of the water, tossed it in the recycling and returned to the living room. Leaning over the back of the mock leather couch, he said, "What do you want me to do?"

Imperceptibly, Dave's eyes flicked from the shitty skateboarding game up to his brother's face. "I don't know. If I knew, I wouldn't be fucking asking, now, would I."

Bro snorted, then vaulted over to sit beside him. "Well, that's really helpful to me, isn't it?"

"You're the parent, aren't you. Figure something out."

"You think I haven't tried already?" Bro stared up at the ceiling, heaving another sigh. "Jesus. I'm not your dad, either, remember."

"Biolo—"

"I'm your bro. That's how it's always been. Nothing's changed."

Dave said nothing, though he made an irritated face. To the untrained eye, it was, of course, invisible. But Bro had known him too long for that. He knew the signs: the slight twitch of lip, the way he turned ever so subtly away. Maybe it was worse than Bro had thought.

How was Bro supposed to broach the subject, though?

In true Strider style, he went with the first (and most tactless) approach. "Are you crashing?"

Dave jabbed at the pause button. His mouth opened as if he were about to speak, but nothing came out.

"Dave. Are you?"

"I…I don't know."

"Helpful." Bro reached out and wrapped his arm around his brother's neck in what he believed to be a sign of familial affection. "Talk to me, bro. Spill those juicy details."

Dave choked. "I don't know what kind of bullshit headlock you just put me in, but it is crushing the hell out of my larynx, so knock it the fuck off."

"Nope," said Bro.

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later. Are you going to tell the others?"

"No."

"That's fuck st—oh, for fuck's sake. Gentlemen's glasses pact." Bro lifted a hand to pull off his own shades, but Dave grabbed him.

"Why."

"Because I need to see your fucking face, that's why."

"Yeah, well, it's not happening."

"Yes, it is. It's already been decided. We're making this happen."

"No. No. Don't think you can—"

But Bro _had_ already decided, and there was little Dave could do to prevent him from ninjaing the glasses right off his face.

"Fuck!" Dave clawed at the air, trying to shield himself and snatch the glasses back at the same time. The gesture was as fruitless as it was awkward to watch. Finally, he began to calm down, lowering his arms. "Give them back."

"Not happening." Bro slid off his own glasses and hung them on the collar of his shirt.

"Give them back."

"Nope."

"I can't breathe."

"Yes, you can. Don't be such a pussy."

Dave squeezed his eyes shut, covering them with his arms until his lungs began to work properly again. "Fuck. You can't do that."

"Pretty sure I just did."

Dave sat up, the look of frustration playing across his features once more. "This is fucking stupid. I shouldn't have asked."

"Calm down."

"How can I calm down when you keep doing stupid shit like this," Dave snapped. "This isn't helping, this is making it worse." He moved to stand, but Bro grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back down.

"Yeah, well, it's the only way I can see what the hell you're thinking. You lie about _everything_, bitch, so don't try and tell me otherwise. I'd like a straight answer on things if I'm going to help you, and that's something your mouth is never going to give me."

"What the hell am I supposed to say to that." Dave slumped forward, head in his hands.

"Well, you could, you know, start by telling me what's happening."

"I can't."

"Then tell me what made it happen."

"I can't."

Bro made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. "Then tell me what you _can_ say."

"There's nothing."

"You're right. Maybe this was a bad idea." Bro pushed himself off the couch.

Dave shot his hand out and grabbed a handful of Bro's shirt. "Wait."

"The fuck do you want?"

"I can't…I—"

"Yeah, I got that."

"No, you stupid fuck, let me finish," Dave growled. "It just…I really can't. If I try and say anything, my throat just…closes up."

Bro sighed and threw himself back down. "Yeah?"

"I…want to tell you. Fuck, this all sounds so stupid. This is so lame."

"Yeah," Bro agreed. "But it's cool, man. It's just us, and I already _know_ you're lame, so it doesn't matter anyway."

"Fuck you."

"Look. If you can't say it, why not just type it?"

"The fuck."

"Just type it out, asshole, it's not that hard. I'll log in to that stupid program, just for you, and you'll spill all that you've been hoarding like the little neurotic squirrelbeast that you are."

"I don't know."

"It's worth a goddamn shot, isn't it?"

"I guess so."

"Good. Because if it _doesn__'__t_ work, I'm alerting your little pile of friends and they'll pester you like a ball in an old photography game."

"Shit."

"Damn straight. Go log in, I have to try and remember just what the hell I used to call myself on that program and it's not going to be easy."

"Yeah, yeah." Dave stood up, hands jammed deep into his pockets.

"Good kid."

"Whatever."

"And Dave?"

"The fuck is it now."

"Thanks for coming to me."

"Yeah, whatever," Dave muttered, shuffling off to his room.

Bro grinned a lopsided grin. "Best brother."


	94. Lens 94

Obscura ~ Age 20

"Lalonde, open the fucking door. We've been out here for five minutes, I'm freezing my ass off," Dave called, pounding at the door. The skin across his knuckles cracked in the dry cold and he cursed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Dave! Don't be so rude!" John exclaimed. "She's really hurting right now! I didn't do that to you, did I?"

"What," Dave said. "Right. Yeah. I guess so. Come on, Lalonde, open up."

"Are you coming in, too, Bro?" John asked, turning back to the car.

"Nah, I've got stuff to do," Bro replied. "Time to paint the town red and all that rap."

"Lalonde, open the goddamn door." Dave risked frostbite once more, reaching up and hammering on the door, this time using the giant and oddly unsettling wizard doorknocker.

"Hello." A sliver of Rose's face appeared in the crack.

"Fuck, Lalonde, do you know how long we were waiting out here." Dave rubbed his arms roughly, trying to bring back any semblance of warmth.

Rose raised her immaculately shaped eyebrows slightly. "Considering you chose to knock rather than ring the doorbell, it is no wonder."

"Dave's just being a douche," John apologized.

"Hello, John," she greeted. "Come in, you must be freezing."

"Hi! It's okay, I'm not that cold."

"Really."

"He would be less freezing if you got out of the goddamn way and let us inside," Dave snapped, shouldering the door open and pushing his way into the house.

"Very well, Strider." Rose stepped aside and allowed John to follow his friend.

"Fucking thank you." Dave pulled his jacket off, paused, then dragged it back on. "Fuck. It's cold outside, but it's cold inside, too."

"He's just in a bad mood 'cause of the road trip," John explained.

"How are you, John?" Rose asked.

"That's my question! I heard something was up. Are you alright?"

"I am now, I suppose."

"Oh, good. Do you want to talk? What happened?" John's eyebrows creased in worry.

"Well…first, you disappeared," Rose replied. She paused, pursing her lips. "Ah. Perhaps my chronology is wrong."

"Rose?"

"Yes?"

"I didn't mean to… And I'm kind of worried about you right now. Are you sure you're okay?"

Rose leaned forward and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Yes, I am perfectly fine, John." She paused again. "Well, perhaps not perfectly. I am rather worried."

"I didn't mean to disappear, Rose. I just…had a rough few days."

"Yes. I've been told." Rose nodded. "But you're here now."

"Of course! I was worried."

"Yes. So were we."

"Fuck, Lalonde," Dave interrupted, frustrated. Where was she? Those two were going on like fucking harpies and he was still stuck waiting with no answer.

"Calm down, Strider," Rose said sternly.

"Do you want me to apologize again?" John asked.

"No. I think you misunderstand. I am fine, John."

"Are you just not going to tell me what happened or do I have to wait here forever," Dave said.

Rose shrugged. "Patience is a virtue."

"Fuck you," Dave growled. "Just. Fuck you."

"Is there something I'm missing…?" John asked nervously. He glanced from Rose to Dave and back again.

"Sit down, John," Rose replied.

"Rose, what's going on?"

"Sit down, John," she repeated.

John hesitated, but obeyed. "Alright…"

"Very good." Rose folded her arms. "Now. I am afraid we may have lied to you."

"Uh…what?"

"John, when I say I am fine, I mean completely fine. Consecutively fine."

"But Dave said you were freaking out!"

"Yes. That is where the 'we' comes in," Rose replied. She watched him for a moment. "John? Are you alright?"

Slowly, John turned to look at her, expression unmistakably hurt. "…why?"

"Why?" Rose repeated. "Because it was the only way to guarantee you would come."

"Why would you make me worry like that!" John shouted.

"It wasn't our preferred option, John. But it was our only option."

"I don't care! You shouldn't have made me worry like that!" John exclaimed, gripping the arm of the couch tightly. "I thought you were freaking out, Rose! I was scared something was really wrong!"

"Yes. Now you understand."

"That's pretty harsh, Lalonde. Even from you," Dave said. "Give the kid a break."

John turned to glare at the blonde boy. "I'm mad at you, too, Dave. Why didn't you tell me if you knew?"

"Well," said Dave, "that would kind of ruin the whole lying to you thing, now, wouldn't it?"

"No! You stupid shit, that isn't what I meant," John snapped. "I'm already stressed about Jade and Dave and myself and you just go ahead and dump this on me?"

"Yes," Rose replied. "It was, however, in your best interest."

"I have a hard time seeing how!"

"Yes, you probably would. Well. We were probably in our own interest, too. Dividing our resources was inadvisable. Hence, our only conclusion was that we had to bring both of you here. You could say our hand was forced."

"Rose…" John moaned. "Is this because I left? Is it because you hate me?"

"John, I don't hate you. I don't hate you at all. I know it was cruel, but it was also necessary." Rose put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away.

"Just leave me alone."

"I can't do that."

"Don't touch me."

"And if I do?"

"Leave me alone, Rose!" he shouted, burying his head in his hands.

"No." She shook her head. "I would have though you could understand this, John. Then again, you have always been rather blind when it comes to yourself."

"Completely," Dave corrected.

"Completely blind," Rose amended.

John took a deep breath. "I'm just upset, and I'm taking it out on you two."

Rose touched his back, then went to sit beside him. "We know. It's okay to be upset, John. I don't mind being hated."

"I don't hate you."

"Come here, John." She pulled him close, resting her head against his.

"Why didn't you just…ask me to come over?"

"John. Do you remember what you were doing before Strider arrived?"

"…yeah."

"Exactly."

"I'm sorry. Both of you."

"It's fine. We understand, John. To be honest, you're taking it better than we expected."

"No, I'm taking it horribly," John said, shaking his head furiously. "I'm just pissed off at myself more."

"Trust me, John. You're doing surprisingly well."

"Yeah," Dave agreed. "Our plan B involved tackling and chloroform. That's not even a joke or a metaphor, it literally was just, I tackle you, and we smother you with a chloroform soaked rag."

"Sure," said John rather dismissively. "I'm just…I don't know how to feel. I feel like I've really fucked up and…and I never meant to leave you guys or stop talking. I was just so out of it and it scares me now."

"It's okay, John. You're here now," Rose soothed.

"I am so scared and I had so many horrible thoughts and I didn't…I couldn't do anything."

"Talk to us, John."

"Yeah," Dave agreed. But he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stand just waiting while Rose pretended like nothing else was happening. "Yeah. Uh. Just one thing. Lalonde, where the hell is she? Is she okay?"

"She's sleeping, Strider."

"Oh." Dave slumped back in his chair, relieved. "Okay. Yeah. Sorry."

"'She'?" John asked. "Is Jade here?"

"Yes," Rose replied.

"Is she alright?"

"She's...no," said Dave.

"Strider," Rose scolded.

"Like he wouldn't figure it out anyway," Dave snapped.

"So that's a no," said John.

"Sigh. Yes." Dave gave a brief nod.

"So let me get this straight," said John. "You tricked BOTH of us here."

"Yes," said Rose.

"Great," said John.

Dave snorted. "Worked, didn't it."

"We decided that you would have…ah…similar reactions. It was quite efficient, actually," Rose explained.

"No, really?" John said, feigning disbelief. "Of course we'd just hear the news that you were flipping out and choose to do nothing!"

"Hey." Dave grit his teeth. "Shut the fuck up." It wasn't like they had enjoyed lying to get their friends there—hell, it had been torture. But if it meant keeping them safe…

"Strider," Rose warned.

"Fuck off, Dave," John snapped. "I didn't mean to stop talking to you guys. I don't see why this is an issue anymore. I got over it. You didn't have to lie."

"That doesn't mean it won't happen again," Rose reasoned. "You know we can't trust you on this. Surely, you understand on some level."

"Of course it's a fucking issue, you keep doing it. That's like the goddamn definition of an issue," Dave added.

"Just shut up!" John yelled. "I know I have problems, but… Argh, you are both just frustrating me right now! First I thought Rose was sick, and then I realize I'm just an asshole about this and you two keep telling me things I already know and I can't… I can't do this."

"John, you aren't an asshole and you can do this. We know you can." Rose gave him a squeeze.

"…yeah," Dave agreed, sitting up. He ran his fingers through his hair, hesitating. "Look, I… I'm sorry, I'm just flipping out right now. I shouldn't be such a prick. Not after the way we got you here. Just…just close your eyes and relax for a few minutes, okay. It'll be fine."

"That's not going to help," John said defiantly. "It doesn't matter. I don't know what to think or feel anymore and I just don't think I can do this."

"So don't do any of those things for a while, take a break," Dave replied. "Thinking is for assholes and university students with exams."

"I'm sorry. Can you guys just sit with me for a bit?" John asked.

"Yeah, sure," said Dave.

"Of course." Rose pulled John over so Dave could sit beside him. They sat placidly for a few minutes, Rose rubbing John's back, Dave wondering if punching John in the arm would be the wrong move at that moment.

"John?" Rose asked at last.

"What?" John replied.

"I know you're still furious, but when you can, please talk to us."

"…maybe."

"John, please."

"It's okay to be angry," Dave said.

John's voice became rougher. "Good."

"Egbert, just…just talk to us. Fuck, you can even yell at us. Just…just don't keep bottling it up."

"I'm not comfortable talking with you," John replied. "Not right now."

Dave paused, watching John. The kid was pretty pissed. Maybe it would be better if he just let Rose take care of him? She seemed to have a way with calming him down with her alternating soothing and matter-of-fact tone. Would it help? "…do you want me to leave? I will if it helps."

"Dave, you can just go see Jade," John grumbled. "You don't need to make shit up."

Dave stared at him, dumbfounded. "That is not what I was thinking, asshole," Dave growled through gritted teeth. He was downright fucking offended. "You're important to me, too, you know. Jesus. You're my best friend for fuck's sake. If you feel bad when I'm around, I don't want to force my company on you."

"Bluh." John slumped a little. "I feel like shit because I have so much crap to sort through right now. I don't care if you're here or not. Just go see Jade and be happy or whatever."

Dave stared hard at the coffee table for a while. Of course he wanted to go see Jade. He had been worried about her since he and Rose had hatched this whole fucking plan. But she was sleeping now, and that was really all he needed to hear. If she was sleeping, she was okay. He could wait on worrying about her for a little while. He could focus on John.

But John was being an asshole and, like the smart kid he was, had probably realized that Dave really did want to check on her regardless. Maybe Dave wasn't the only one that was pissed about this.

"I'll get over it," said John.

"John," Dave said slowly. He rubbed his temples between his forefinger and thumb, irritated. "Fuck. I don't even have words for what I want to say right now." With that, he wrapped his arms around his friend and gave him the biggest, broest hug he could muster. "How many times do I have to fucking tell you how important you are."

"A lot," came John's muffled reply.

"John, you are just as important to me," Dave said. "You're the one I need to worry about right now." Jade was sleeping. Jade was alright.

John wasn't.

"I've just…got a lot of feelings right now," John said.

"Yeah. It's okay to feel like that. Just don't bottle it up," Dave replied.

"What do you want me to say?"

"It doesn't matter what you say, as long as you feel better after."

"I'm pissed you guys tricked me here, I'm scared about Jade, I don't know if I'm going to faint right now, and I'm freaked I'm going to relapse and crash again." He took a deep breath. "Is that good enough for you?"

"I dunno," said Dave. "Is it good enough for you."

"I don't feel any fucking better."

Rose sat up. "John, would you like to see Harley?"

"I don't think we should wake her," he mumbled.

"I wasn't suggesting that we do."

"…alright then."

Rose stood up, brushing off her skirt. "This way. Follow me, please." Rose paused, turning to Dave. "Are you coming, Strider?"

Dave flinched. "Yeah."

The two boys followed Rose up the stairs to her room. Putting a finger to her lips to indicate they be quiet, she pushed the door open to reveal the sleeping fourth party member.

"See?" Rose said softly. "Sound asleep. It is quite the improvement, I think, on her initial state when she arrived."

Dave didn't say anything. He just watched her, small and pale, nearly lost between all the blankets.

"She looks…tired," said John.

"Yes," Rose agreed.

"…do I look that bad, too?"

"Yes."

"…yeah," said Dave.

John stepped back. "Shit."

"That's why you're here," said Rose.

"I miss being happy."

"I can't promise anything, John, but I'll do everything in my power to help."

Dave forced himself to return his attention to the situation at hand. "…yeah. Me too."

"Thanks," John said. "I'm not sorry I was pissed, but I guess…I get why you did it."

"We're not saying that it was good," Rose said. "Just that we had to."

John took another step back, holding his palm to his head. "I need to lie down."

"I will take you to your and Strider's room," Rose offered.

"Fuck, I'm dizzy. Just wait a second."

Awkwardly, Dave offered, "Lean on me."

"When you're not strong?" John asked, laughing a rather depressed laugh.

"And I'll be there."

"Dave, that's not the next line."

"Isn't it." Dave narrowed his eyes, trying to remember. "Something something 'carry on'."

"Close enough."

"You okay though," Dave asked. "Do you want to sit down for a while."

"I just need to lie down for a minute or something and get my head a bit clearer."

"Come on, I'll help you." Dave pulled John's arm across his shoulders and they began to walk (though terribly lopsidedly).

"We're almost there, at any rate," Rose encouraged.

"Thanks," said John.

Rose stopped at a door and pushed it open, then stood aside to let the two pass. "Make yourself at home."

"You don't want me doing that."

"Make yourself at my home," she corrected.

"Just lie down," Dave said.

"Yeah…"


	95. Lens 95

**Obscura ~ Age 22**

[ectoBiologist has begun pestering turntechGodhead]

EB: hey dave…you'd be my best man right?

Dave glanced at the screen, raising an eyebrow in the well-practiced manner of the coolkid. It wasn't unusual for John to natter on about wedding plans, but he could have at least started the conversation with a fucking "hello".

TG: uhh hello to you too what the fuck was that about

EB: just answer!

TG: uh well yeah obviously

TG: and youd be mine

TG: that isnt even a fucking option i am not asking you

TG: you are going to be my best man regardless of whether you want to do it or not

EB: of course i would. but what about your bro?  
>TG: hes going to marry us<p>

TG: and give away the bride

TG: and be a bridesmaid

TG: just all of those things

TG: all of them

TG: oh and of course hell be the band

TG: mixing some sweet wedding beats on the turntables like a motherfucking magician of music

EB: heh. alright.

EB: i don't think he can marry you though.

TG: why not

EB: i don't think he's qualified.

TG: pretty sure hes been ordained on the internet

EB: oh well it is the internet.

EB: alright.

TG: nothing screams legit like the sites he visits

TG: cant see anything wrong with getting your license on a bulbousbottoms offshoot site

TG: not a damn thing

EB: so he did get ordained by puppet smut then?

EB: hey you're still getting married in that emporium right?

Again with the puppet emporium. If Rose wasn't lying and there actually _was_ an emporium celebrating the history of puppet smut in New York, well…

He would probably cry a single emo tear and question the utter foundations of humanity.

TG: oh definitely

TG: the smuppets will be my guests

TG: their bulbous bottoms raised in respect

TG: their plump proboscises erect with anticipation

Maybe anticipation was the wrong word. Maybe that was going a bit far in the absolute wrong and unintentional direction.

Then again, these were smuppets he was talking about. They were never _not_ erect with anticipation.

Dave shuddered. Fucking smuppets.

EB: okay. that would be creepy.

TG: yes.

TG: that is what i live with.

EB: hehe.

TG: they greet me half chubbed every morning

TG: oh god

EB: sounds enjoyable

TG: they watch me egbert

TG: they watch me with their cold unfeeling eyes

TG: they watch me and whisper with those button peepers

TG: they know things egbert

EB: watch them back

TG: that's when their cocknozzles begin to twitch

TG: all cheerful in the midday sun like a goddamn happy cat

TG: except dongs

TG: dongs where the cats would be in that scenario

TG: dongs where the sun would be too

TG: actually you know what just replace every fucking item in that sentence with dongs and thats more what its like

It felt good to get into a good metaphor again. He had been slacking off lately and it was beginning to show in his rhymes as well as his slick conversational prowess.

Or maybe now, lack thereof.

EB: hehe.

EB: i dunno how you put up with them.

TG: i dont either

TG: i dont understand bro sometimes

TG: okay i dont understand him a lot dude is fucking strange

TG: dunno why it took me so many years but i guess you dont really notice til you wake up one morning with plush puppet ass all up in your face

TG: then again that describes every morning since i was five so

Dave had almost grown used to it by now. It saved him the expense of a fancy alarm clock, at least.

Almost.

TG: yeah

EB: you're just strong.

TG: so fucking strong

TG: i am the master

TG: i am the big man

TG: being stared at by puppets

TG: oh god that one just moved

TG: i think they're sentient sometimes

TG: i know its just bro fucking with me but holy fuck is he ever good at it

EB: he's had a long time to practice.

TG: yeah

TG: one day ill exact my revenge and it will be fucking spectacular

TG: his pleas for forgiveness will rain down from above like a motherfucking hurricane of regret

TG: and all the puppet smut will be washed away

TG: then again thats a pretty shitty idea the smut is kind of how we have

TG: well food

TG: and well anything

TG: so maybe i will forgive that as long as it is not right up in my fucking eyeballs all the time

EB: i'd love to see that.

Dave paused. He just didn't have it in him to concoct some elaborate scheme. He was sick to literal timedeath of revenge.

TG: well

TG: i guess hes put up with a lot of my shit over the past few years

TG: maybe ill be the better man and just concede defeat

EB: i'm sure he's used to shit. i wouldn't worry.

TG: …yeah i guess so

EB: hey. trust me. dad's put up with a lot from me too.

TG: yeah

The familiar creeping feeling began to slither its way up his chest and he grit his teeth. This was _not_ happening now. He was not going to have a goddamn attack just because he had mentioned his brother in casual conversation. That was fucking stupid.

But the feeling had reached his shoulders and was beginning to tug at his lungs in that disgusting way it always did. It was just a matter of time now.

TG: i dont know

TG: i think I ruined something big for him

TG: shit

EB: NO

EB: dave. please. look.

EB: you haven't ruined anything for him.

EB: he's your family.

Dave shifted uncomfortably in his chair. That might be true _now_, sure, but all those years ago…

TG: yeah well

TG: this was kind of before we were family

EB: sorry

TG: so am i

EB: no.

EB: if you want to pass the blame around with people, it's my fault then.

EB: i'm the one who made you all.

For fuck's sake. Dave nearly jammed a finger thwacking out his reply on the keyboard.

TG: egbert thats fucking stupid

TG: none of us would goddamn exist if you hadnt

EB: so is what you just said

TG: yeah i fucking know i just

EB: it's okay dave.

EB: if you know, then it's okay.

TG: i was reminded of it again recently

TG: fuck

EB: …do you wanna talk about it?

TG: theres not much to say

TG: his psycho ex came by while he was gone and bitched me out for a while before hightailing it back to whatever hellhole she crawled her way out of

EB: she sounds like a psycho alright.

TG: apparently my entire existence is an affront to her

EB: why, she think you're his kid?

TG: no

TG: she knows im his

TG: whatever i am to him

EB: brother.

No, that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all. She knew more than that. So much more.

Dave clutched at his shades instinctively. He knew, now, and he wasn't about to let her rip them off if they ever met in some darkened alley, or, more likely, his apartment. Not again.

TG: …adopted brother i guess

EB: brother brother.

TG: give me a break im talking from whatever her perspective is here dont get all technical on my ass

EB: i guess so yeah.

TG: she made it pretty clear that i broke them up

TG: somehow

EB: guh. if she's that crazy then i think you're better off without her.

But…

TG: i think shes right

EB: that you broke them up?

TG: yeah

EB: dave you were a baby that landed with an asteroid.

EB: and your brother picked YOU.

TG: egbert she knew

TG: she knew about his eyes

TG: about

TG: mine

TG: egbert he didn't even tell me until a few years ago

And for a Strider, that was fucking huge. Rule number one was that you don't take off your shades, no matter what. Sure, there were corollaries, but they were pretty fucking strict. That bitch, psychotic or not, had definitely meant something to Bro.

EB: …i knew too.

TG: …

Dave stared at the screen. John knew?

John…knew.

He had known all along.

It was then that Dave's lungs decided on a collective mutiny and stopped working.

TG: i

TG: cant breathe

EB: shit what do you want me to do

EB: i'll call bro

TG: i cant

TG: …

Dave slipped from the chair, this time at least keeping mind to aim away from the edge of his desk. He stayed there, in a crumpled fetal position, brain slowly grinding to a blank halt.

EB: dave oh god please.

EB: i'm so sorry.

EB: i'm so sorry.

EB: dave oh dear god i am calling your brother

There was no pounding of footsteps, no startled bursting open of doors. That wasn't Strider style. Instead, Dave was on the ground one moment, being dragged to his feet the next. Bro was there, pulling him to his bed, dropping him on it, propping him against the wall.

"Looks like little Eggie was right," Bro was saying. Dave just blinked dizzily at him behind his tinted specs. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't go puking this time, got it?" Bro rubbed his brother's back roughly, and slowly Dave was able to start to take a few ragged breaths again. Eventually, Dave was able to re-regulate his intake of breath like a normal person, albeit in an uncomfortably shaky, laboured sort of way. Satisfied by his work, Bro toppled Dave over with a brief palm to the face and tossed a ratty old blanket over him.

Then, he vanished.

TG: Salutations my dearest Brobert.

TG: …

TG: Considering the tardiness of your reply,

TG: Should I assume you've run screaming from your computing device?

EB: sorry.

EB: yeah.

EB: oh god dave.

EB: i'm sorry.

TG: Save your lament, I've remedied the situation.

TG: I've got this covered.

EB: i'm… i didn't…

EB: i couldn't lie to him.

EB: he keeps telling me to stop lying and then i do

EB: and then i hurt him.

TG: False.

TG: Despite your preconceived misconceptions, I am pretty sure you had 93.083 of a percent of having done

TG: Absolutely nothing

TG: Wrong at all.

TG: And without questioning the reliability of the statistic which I certainly haven't just pulled out my ass

TG: Because I haven't

TG: I should probably tell you that Verity came by the other day while I was out on

TG: Shall I say

TG: Business.

TG: And it seems that she proceeded to royally fuck him up in that period of time.

EB: …verity?

TG: Hence, this was really just bad timing on your part but otherwise almost completely unrelated.

TG: Yes, Verity.

TG: I guess I should have prefaced that by saying she is my psychobitch of an ex-girlfriend.

EB: huh.

EB: no. just. the girl i knew had the same name. it's nothing.

EB: is dave gonna be okay?

TG: Well, if you did meet a girl by the same name, I hope to whatever motherfucking troll of a god we might have that it's not the same girl.

TG: And he's

TG: Well, I can't say it's entirely out of the ordinary for him. It seems to be a standard reaction for the little fucker.

TG: I made him lie down.

EB: i'm sorry.

TG: Jesus, Brobert, it's not your fault.

TG: If you imply it is once more I'll jam my fist through the interweb and punch you in the face with it.  
>TG: Twice.<p>

EB: i know.

EB: kind of.

TG: It's really not.

TG: Seriously.

TG: You can trust a bro on that.

EB: okay.

EB: i know you'll look after him.

EB: i'm sorry about your ex.

TG: Yeah, well, I'm pretty damn sorry myself.

TG: The Lil Bro comes first.

TG: She just never seemed to get that.

EB: did you love her?

TG: I guess we had fun.

TG: She was pretty fucking off the rocker though.

TG: If I drew a line representing the rocker and a dot representing her

TG: Well, I don't think my pen works in space.

TG: Not yet.

TG: Soon, though.

TG: She was pretty fucking violent, too, now that I think about it.

TG: But really, the clincher was the moment I saw the little twerp

TG: His eyes just screamed Strider swag, y'know?

EB: bros for life.

TG: Exactly.

EB: heh.

EB: i'm glad you picked him. over her.

TG: As am I.

TG: He's an adorable little douchebag, isn't he?

Dave shuddered, his mind suddenly fast-forwarding into a sickening loop of dizziness and he gave a strangled groan. He was pretty sure he hadn't been breathless long enough to rack up enough swimmer's fucking fatigue to merit a ride on the hallucinamobile, but maybe today was just really fucking special.

TG: Eh, hang on a tic, Brobert.

EB: yeah.

Bro was beside him again, this time slapping him in the face with what felt like a sodden sock. It took Dave a full five minutes to realize it was not (thankfully) a sock, but a damp washcloth to the forehead. The room had stopped spinning, though, and that's what really mattered.

TG: The situation has been taken care of, both smoothly and sufficiently.

EB: dave?

TG: None other.

EB: …i…is he mad?

TG: No.

TG: I don't think he's actually even capable of that right now, but

TG: He's just stressed.

TG: I mean, if you think about it, the whole concept of you knowing was pretty fucking obvious right from the get go.

TG: He's not going to get pissed at you about that.

TG: Himself, maybe, but not you.

EB: he could.

TG: Nah, he's all talk.

TG: He's pretty fucking mellow when you think about it.

TG: If you disregard the whole panic attack situation we seem to have going on here.

EB: …i guess.

TG: Brobert, you're his best bro.

TG: He isn't going to be mad.

EB: …

TG: Your ellipses hint at further concern.

TG: Care to expound?

EB: i…didn't wanna lie anymore.

EB: that's good right?  
>TG: Absofuckingtively.<p>

TG: Hell, even Striders can't live off lies all the time.

TG: Though we've been cut from the cloth lawyers and politicians are made of.

TG: Look, Brobert.

TG: This isn't you.

EB: i wish it was.

TG: Last time Verity showed up, the same kerfuffle occurred and—

TG: Hold up. What?

EB: i don't

EB: i don't want dave to be hurt

EB: or upset

EB: or passing out or not breathing

EB: or being assaulted by psycho bitches.

TG: What, so you think it'd be better if it were you wearing the crimson converse of young Striderdom?

EB: yes.

TG: It doesn't work like that, Brobert.

TG: You can't just take it all like a extra-vacant smuppet.

TG: And, much like that smuppet, you're going to end up fucking yourself over.

EB: i don't care!

TG: Alright. Listen up.

TG: You might not care, but you aren't the only one riding this whole situation, Brobert.

TG: The people who care about you would be mighty bothered if you suddenly up and took on all the suffering.

TG: Because you know what?

TG: They'd do the same in a hummingbird's heartbeat.

TG: So instead of deciding that you're the only one who should take it

TG: Or deserves it

TG: Or whatever other bullshit that's spinning those mental cogs of yours

TG: Just be there to pick up the goddamn pieces because that's what they would do for you and it's good as anyone can get.

TG: Don't go what-iffing about things you can't change because hey, guess what?

TG: _You__can__'__t__change__them._

EB: …i'm sorry.

TG: About what?  
>EB: everything.<p>

TG: Why?

EB: because i'm just a selfish asshole.

TG: Are you going to expand on that or am I going to have to compufuck the answer out of you?

EB: because i say i wanna help and then i go and say i just want it to be me

EB: and i know that's not what anyone wants

EB: except for me

EB and i don't know why i want it anymore because i can't even handle what's wrong with me NOW.

TG: Calm your quivering tits, because that is what being human is.

TG: You think I haven't thought the same thing every goddamn night post?

TG: I know I'm not in your little best friends' foursome, but seeing him like this is pretty heavy on the eyelids of the minor players, too, you know.

TG: You just have to know when you're letting it get out of hand, because that's when you stop being helpful and start being a raging douche about the whole thing.

TG: Focus on fixing what you can instead of bitching about what you can't.

EB: i just wanna be a better friend.

EB: is there anything i can do?

TG: To be a better friend, or right now?

EB: both.

TG: Right now he's all lain out on the bed like a vegitized coma patient, so I think it's safe to say you're fine just doing what you're doing.

TG: And as for being a better friend,

TG: Don't tell the authorities but I'm pretty sure you're being a damn good friend already.

TG: Just keep telling the truth and don't beat yourself up when stuff like this happens, because knowing that asshole, it's pretty damn guaranteed to happen again and again.

TG: That's just how it goes.

TG: It may suck unholy balls now, but it'll be better in the long run.

TG: You've just got to wait it out.

EB: i guess so  
>EB: thanks bro<p>

EB: take care of dave okay?

TG: Already on it.

TG: Peace, motherfucker, I'm out.

EB: bye

[turntechGodhead has ceased pestering ectoBiologist]


	96. Lens 96

**Obscura ~ Age 18**

A speck of orange flicked in and out of Dave's line of sight, just within the range of his peripheral vision. He let it dance there for a full minute before turning to face the source.

"Holy shit." Dave flinched, eyes wide behind his tinted specs as they caught the handsome visage of his carroty doppelganger. "What the fuck."

"What." The boy looked up in the trained manner of the coolkid, face instead of eyes (peepers neatly tucked away behind a bitching pair of aviators, of course).

"Never mind." Dave turned back to the subway window, pointedly watching the tunnel walls speed by. The boy turned his attention back to his handheld tune dispensing device.

For a moment, it had been like looking into a mirror, albeit one belonging to some deranged hue swapping funhouse. On closer inspection, though, the kid seemed pretty different. He was only a façade of cool—he couldn't hold a candle to the real thing. He didn't have the same sort of ever present Strider swag, and that was the inevitable game changer in the game of kings. No, it was best to go back to their game of mutual ignoring.

Except the kid seemed to have other plans. "I'm not cool with that half-assed excuse for an answer, man. Spill it like an unbalanced bottle of overflowing apple juice."

"It was nothing."

"Well, now you've got my attention all wrapped around those dextrous fingers of yours."

"I thought you were someone else. Fuck. Is it that so hard to believe. Just let it go." Dave was in no mood to banter with some random asshole. He had nearly suffered a heart attack and a half because of this douchebag, he wasn't about to let the kid take up his valuable time, too.

"Of course it is. I don't want you mistaking me for some long lost, star-crossed lover. Or maybe we're enemies, in which case there can only be one of us, and I must challenge you to a duel of the tragically hip, heroically cool. Last one standing wins the crown."

"Yeah, it's neither of those things. I have high standards, you know. I can't go entertaining every misguidedly infatuated dude I see as they prostrate themselves to me on the street. I have better things to do than fulfill the fantasies of puppet-probing perverts."

"I think you've confused me with someone with wholly different and disturbingly unwholesome tastes. Really, though. Puppets. Seriously. Out of all the things you could choose."

"You'd be surprised. It takes all kinds to spin this planet, and a horribly huge portion of them have a thing for bulbous bottoms of the spongy variety."

"Allow me to widen my eyes in oh-so-polite and gentlemanly shock."

"Don't let your monocle fall into your glass of wine, that shit stains like a bitch."

The smirking boy glanced at the printed ceiling map and stood, hands hung loosely in his retina scarring slacks. "I'll snatch it up like a magpie in a silver factory before it even hits the drink, tail feathers all shaken in silent protest of the rising cost of treel estate."

"No, that was awful. You sicken me. You are the pun-spewing flu of this generation. Get out before I get my vaccination on all up in this office."

The subway slowed, coming to a jarring halt. The boy gave a flick of his hand in a farewell salute and moved to get off. "Caw caw, motherfucker. I'm out."

"Do you even know what a magpie is," Dave called incredulously. But it was too late.

The boy was gone.


	97. Lens 97

**Obscura ~ Age 21**

Dave looked down at the record in his hands, eyes wide. How Rose had ever managed to find it, let alone pay for it, he couldn't even fathom. He quickly put it with the others, unable to trust himself with it for much longer. It was the exact disc he had broken weeks prior, and the very one he needed most for his biggest project.

The one he would probably never finish.

[turntechGodhead has begun pestering tentacleTherapist]

TG: holy fuck

TG: this is awesome

TG: this is so fucking perfect how did you even

TG: i love you

TT: I know.

TT: How can you not?

TG: no lalonde you dont understand

TG: my heart burns passionately for you

TG: it is just all thump thump flame

TT: Well, while this certainly does say a lot about your psychology, I must admit I am flattered you feel this way.

TT: Does Harley not mind?

After all the work Rose must have gone to, Dave was willing to play along with her insane psychobullshit. At least for a little while.

TG: its cool we can just flip motherfucking quadrants

TG: all troll style

TG: two sides of the same coin and all that smooth jazz

TT: Ah, so then are you saying you hate me then?

TT: I still understand. I am quite irresistable.

TG: all these swirling emotions all up inside of me

TG: oh wait

TG: no

TT: No?

TT: They are not swirling?

TT: Spiraling, perhaps?

TT: Ebbing?

It wouldn't be a proper psychobattle without some good shitty porn novel references. He had to think of at _least_ eight different euphemisms for pulsing manhood or neither of them would ever be satisfied.

TG: throbbing

TG: throbbing emotions

TT: Throbbing, I see.

TT: Really, Strider, I do not really wish to hear about your hate hardon. But if you wish to keep telling me I am certain I can put the description to some use in literature in the future.

TG: there are already thousands of books written about it

TG: all harlequin romance section up in my life

TG: stealing my stories of being bitten by snakes and having busty maids suck the poison

TG: frolicking in fields as they are want to do

TT: Thousands? I was not aware you had displayed your throbbing emotions to so many.

TG: yeah those passionate emotions are all exposed

TG: admired by all but touched by few you know

TT: I do know.

TT: Only certain raven haired friends of mine are allowed that honour.

TG: and a bus hobo but i dont really want to talk about that

TT: But that's my favourite story.

TT: It only gets better the more you retell it.

TG: no

TG: no it only gets more horrible

TG: i would prefer to not remember

TT: His tongue caressed my cheek like a loving serpent, sniffing the air. His sweater smelt of drugs and dirt, and the bridge he called his home.

TT: The tale of the bus hobo and a young boy on their cross country journey.

Okay, now it was starting to cross the line. Dave didn't really want to read his bus exploits in bad fanfiction form.

TG: oh gog

TG: lets not even

TG: i didnt feel clean for a weak man it was not cool

TT: Later, I scrubbed myself, unwilling to let the cling of his reek leave my pores.

TT: I traced my discareded shirt with a loose finger, recalling how he drooled upon my shoulder for fifty miles.

TG: that is literature at its finest

TG: you should write for bros movies

TG: the smuppet industry would boom

TT: You truly believe so? I feel honoured you believe my talents on par with his.

TT: Perhpas I shall contact him and propose this.

TT: I would cast you as the red smuppet, I believe.

TT: The bus hobo, perhaps as Mr. T.

TG: id rather not participate in this activity

TG: living it once was quite enough thank you

TG: and despite my inevitable attraction to mr t

TG: dude is not my style

TG: i prefer a partner of the more insomniac persuasion

TG: if not narcoleptic

TT: I am afraid I cannot cast Harley as a bus hobo. She would not be able to take the role seriously.

TG: how about you cast the role of the red smuppet

TG: to i dunno

TG: the red smuppet

TT: Perhaps the green smuppet would fit the bill.

TG: close enough

TG: half the audience is probably colourblind anyway

TT: They might be. I do believe this tale needs to be told though.

TT: An addition to your other throbbing exploits across literature.

TG: im cool with letting you have this

TG: just all of this

TG: my throbbing passions will stay away from this

TG: lest they begin to lessen in their firmness

TT: I wouldn't want that.

TT: I can't imagine having a conversation with you that lacked firmness on your part.

TG: for you lalonde ill always stay rock hard

TG: okay that was a lie my enthusiasm would probably wane

TG: but that is why you should just take over from here

TG: and produce this story on your own

TG: preferably without mention of my name

TG: or throbbing passion

TT: I will honour your request.

TT: I will make sure to dedicate the novel to you.

TG: that is kind of like

TG: doing the exact opposite of what i just said

TT: Yes.

TG: you are a cruel broad lalonde

TT: I try.

TG: hey

TG: youre doing okay right

TT: I am.

TT: How are you doing?

TG: surviving as is the norm

TT: That is good. Surviving is a good start.

TG: yeah

TG: its better than the alternative at any rate

TT: Much preferrable.

TG: ...

TT: Are you alright?

Dave took a deep breath. The heat was beginning to rise in his throat, but he shook his head. It was Rose, after all. After another few moments of therapeutic meditation, he began to type again.

TG: i havent

TG: toyed with the turntables for a long time

TT: Do you miss them?

TG: i dont know

TG: i dont know anymore

TG: i played them a bit in high school

TG: did some gigs

TG: then i just

TG: stopped

TG: scratching records feels kind of bad now

TT: Well, I certainly miss hearing your mixes.

TT: But if it is what you are more comfortable with, that is perfectly alright.

TG: im not though

TG: i dont like it either

TT: Well, then you need to pick it up again. Perhaps not alone. And not a lot. But even small steps are better than nothing.

TG: ...yeah

TT: I would love to hear something from you again Strider. I hope you can face them soon.

TG: alright

TG: guess ill do that

TG: ill finish harleys song

TT: I'm sure she'll melt with excitement.

TG: maybe ill write you one too

TG: about smuppets and wizards

TG: maybe theyll be getting it on

TG: music to write shitty fanfics by

TT: That sounds delightful.

TT: I have missed a good inspiring song. It is so hard to write without a good tune.

TG: bulbous bottoms boinking each other

TG: the soundtrack

TT: I'm getting shivers.

TG: damn straight youll never be able to listen to any other song ever again

TG: other music will just sound goddamn wrong in your ears

TG: also i think im going to throw up

Dave leaned back in his chair, trying to breathe slowly and evenly. His stomach turned unpleasantly as he tried to keep the turntables out of his line of vision. What the hell was he doing? It hadn't always been like this.

Then again, he hadn't been one for snapping records until recently. Things change.

TT: Alright. Watch your shades and try and keep calm.

TT: Try and make it to a toilet, Strider.

After a few more minutes of forcibly shutting out the world, he sat up. His stomach still clenched in warning, but at least he couldn't feel his breakfast trying to make its way back up.

TG: false alarm

TG: everythings cool

TT: I'm glad.

TT: I must admit, it does frighten me if you are sick to your stomach... for obvious reasons.

TG: yeah

TG: sorry i scared you

TT: So long as you are alright.

TG: yeah

TG: dont...dont worry about that so much with me

TG: its different from egbert i promise

TG: youve seen it happen before its not a lot

TG: it just

TG: happens sometimes

TT: I know. You are right, I have seen it happen before.

TT: However, I know I will overthink this because of John, despite knowing the difference. So…my apologies for being overly concerned in these situations.

TT: I cannot have you be like him.

TG: i know lalonde

TG: trust me

TG: i promise it wont though

TG: seriously youre talking to the guy that lived off shitty noodles for a goddamn year im never going to not eat real food again

TT: That is true.

TT: Thank you.

TT: It is reassuring to have you say that.

TG: yeah

TG: besides i live with bro you should eat twelve sandwiches strider

TT: Can you eat twelve sandwiches?

TG: no

TG: ive tried

TG: it doesnt work

TG: doesnt change what he says though

TT: Well, I suppose whatever number you can eat is plenty.

TT: Even if it is not twelve.

TG: yep

TG: human food is good stuff man

TG: ill take it over carcinogenic dried noodle crap any day

TT: I quite enjoy it as well.

TG: fuck now i want to puke for other reasons

TG: why do they even make that shit anymore

TT: Because college students need something cheap and sodium filled.

TG: so that they can get scurvy yeah i guess so

TT: Might as well feed them garbage and save the proper food for the rest of society.

TG: weed out the weak

TT: Yes.

TG: getting all evolutiontastic on their asses

TT: The noodle industry was started by Darwin, you know.

TG: really

TG: he was all just like

TG: yeah bro gonna show this theory in real time

TG: watch me

TT: Yes, precisely.

TT: He wanted to be sure he secured his place with his theories.

TT: What better way than targeting otherwise stressed students with addicting, tasteless food?

TG: the perfect target group

TG: it all makes sense now

TG: the world is logic once more

TT: Indeed.

TT: As much as I would love to continue this conversation with you, Strider, I have an upcoming exam to study for.

TT: And I assume you do, as well.

TG: nah im done

TG: aced those fuckers like a mensa wizard

TT: Well, we can't all slide by on minimum passes like you.

TG: fuck off i get good marks

TG: im no 99 bell curve wrecking genius but ive yet to drop below the eighty mark

TT: Really.

TT: Colour me impressed.

TT: Shall I arrange a ticker tape parade in your honour?

TT: Perhaps have the mayor present you with the key to the city?  
>TG: nah ive already got that bitch hanging on my wall<p>

TG: next to the other various memorabilia ive been bequeathed for my many upstanding deeds

TT: No doubt you will soon be running out of wallspace.

TT: Nevertheless, I must depart.

TT: Goodbye, Strider.

TT: Good luck with your timetables.

TT: Turntables.

TT: My apologies.  
>TG: just go fucking study<p>

[tentacleTherapist has ceased pestering turntechGodhead]

Slowly, Dave turned back to his record collection. Maybe if he started with a really shitty one, it wouldn't matter. He picked up one of his least favourite discs, sliding it from the package and turning it over in his hands. God, it had an awful track. He wasn't even sure why he kept the damn thing. He never used it for mixes. Once and a while he'd play it for a sound test, though only a few seconds at a time, and only when it was nearby.

All he had to do was play it now.

He could just slide it on, start it up…

_Snap._


	98. Lens 98

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

[timaeusTestified has begun pestering turntechGodhead]

TT: Alright, so are you ready to spill that heavy burden on your chest to your newly appointed brotastic psychiatrist?

TT: Lay it on me, man.

TG: wow

TG: really

TG: orange

TT: Orange is an entirely underappreciated and cool as fuck colour.

TG: youre such a fucking asshole youre making fun of me arent you

TT: No.

TT: Not right now, anyway.

TT: Maybe later, though, we'll see what I have on my ever expanding schedule.

TT: A little tinkering here, a little teasing the everloving fuck out of you there.

TG: im not doing this

TG: this was a stupid idea and youre a total fucking douchebag

TG: why did i even come to you

TT: It's like you think I changed the font just to screw with you or something.

TT: Which, I admit, is something I may have considered doing under other circumstances.

TT: If I had known it would bother you so much.

TT: Which I didn't.

TG: of course it fucking bothers me

TG: do you

TG: do you not see the problem

TG: do you not

TT: Nope, I have no idea. Enlighten me.

TG: gog i hate you so much right now

TG: i hate me for thinking this was a good fucking idea

TT: Stop your bitching before I hire dear Brobert to fly his pasty ass down here and punch you in the face.  
>TT: Again.<p>

TG: gee thanks

TG: thats real fucking comforting

TG: why is it that i havent opened up to you again

TT: Anyway, stop harping on such a wholly insignificant detail, you gigantic prick.

TT: I set it this colour fucking years ago.

TT: I like orange, it's the colour of explosions and sunsets.

TT: Oh, and Lil Cal's bitchin' undersuit of course.

TG: of course

TT: But seriously bro, talk to me.

TT: Lay that beating heart bare before me and we'll see what kind of careful probing we can attend to.

TG: see its shit like this that makes me hate  
>TG: well i guess everything<p>

TT: You'd think after, what, eleven years you'd be used to it? It's how I issue forth these sweet, sweet words of unrivalled comfort.

TT: It seems you're just after some convoluted hope of last ditch escape and it's just not going to happen, bro.

TT: You came to me for help and that's what I'm going to give.

TT: And if I sound rad as hell giving it, well, that's just the DS way.

TT: The Strider way.

TT: Our way.

TT: Wink wink nudge nudge say no more and all that bullshit

TG: nope

TG: cant do it im out

[turntechGodhead has ceased pestering timaeusTestified]

TT: That's what you think.

TT: Haa haa hee hee hoo hoo

[timaeusTestified has ceased pestering turntechGodhead]


	99. Lens 99

**Obscura ~ Age 13**

Dave stared up at the ceiling, blonde hair stuck to his forehead. His skin was sticky and his clothes still clung to him in the epitome of discomfort. He didn't want to move. Hell, he didn't want to _blink_. Even breathing was a goddamn effort.

Of course, that meant that this was the optimal time for a door-to-door sales asshole. _Bang, bang, bang!_ Three loud raps at the door.

Dave didn't move. If he waited long enough, the prick on the other side of the wall would probably just give up and leave.

_Bang, bang, bang!_

_Go away_, Dave thought. _Go bother someone else. Someone with time or money or fucks to give._

_Bang, bang, bang!_

Damn, this was a persistent one. Dave pushed himself off the couch into a sitting position, staring in mute curiosity at the door. The handle was jiggling. Seriously?

Maybe Bro had forgotten his keys and locked himself out. Serves him right, the asshole. He could sleep out there for all Dave cared.

But Dave did care, so he reluctantly got to his feet and shuffled to the door. He flipped the lock and wrenched the door open mid-knock.

"Hey asshole, your keys are under the—"

But then Dave froze. This wasn't Bro. This wasn't Bro at all. This was some wild-eyed woman with just about the most terrifying expression Dave had ever seen.

"Who the fuck are you," he asked, fighting to keep the anxious tone from his voice.

She didn't reply. She just glared down at him, eyes narrowed, studying his every move. "You look like him."

"Look, I don't know what kind of shit he's been pulling, but if you want money or something, I don't have any," Dave said bluntly. "Come back later. He's not home." With that, Dave swung the door shut.

Or rather, he tried to.

The woman had planted her food firmly against the door, bracing herself. With little effort, she forced it back open and Dave had to stumble back to avoid a mass of wood to the face.

Now he was beginning to panic. "Seriously, who the fuck are you. I told you, Bro's not here. Come back later."

She shook her head, her painted blue lips curving into a vicious smile. "Oh, no. I'm not to see him. I'm here for _you._"

An involuntary shiver ran up Dave's back. "What the fuck. I don't even know you."

She shook her head. "No, I didn't think you would. But I do know you, and I think that's all that really matters here."

"What the hell do you want from me."

She shrugged her thin shoulders. "Nothing, really. I just wanted to see the little brat who took my boyfriend and my meal ticket all in one foul swoop."

"What are you talking about."

The woman reached out and grabbed Dave's chin firmly between her fingers, forcing him to look up at him. Her lips twitched in amusement. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were his son. But we both know _that_ couldn't be true, hm? No one cheats on me."

"The fuck are you talking about. Let go of me." Dave slapped her hand away and she relented, but not before deftly flicking the shades from his face. Panicking, Dave tried to snatch them back, but she held them just out of reach as if to taunt him. It was a futile effort, anyway—the damage had already been done.

"Oh my. You're like a family of oddities, aren't you? No wonder he saw a Strider in you." She laughed.

"Fuck you, give those back." Dave made another grab for the shades, but she twitched them away just in time, choosing instead to try them on over her own glasses.

"I guess I can't blame him toooooooo much. After all, for a little ankle-biter, you're reasonably cute." She frowned slightly. "You and him, both wearing these ugly shades. It's stupid. The world's way too dark already without their help." With that, she tossed them back, watching as Dave scrambled to catch them.

Dave shoved the shades back on his face, struggling to keep a level head. No, he wasn't being cool. He wasn't being cool at all. What he was doing was losing it, flipping out like a coked up squirrel. This wasn't the Strider way. He should be the one in control, not this bony rocker chick.

But it was useless. Dave was all too aware that she was the dominant one between them, and she wasn't going to leave unless she wanted to.

No. No, he could still turn this around. As long as he could make her _want_ to leave, then she'd—

"You can't manipulate me that easily, you know."

Dave flinched. Was she a fucking mind reader? "The fuck."

"I know that look. Shades used to pull it back then, too, you know. You might be able to trick the normies around you, brat, but it takes someone special to be able to pull one over on me." She laughed again and the hair on the back of Dave's neck stood up. "Try again in a few years, maybe, and we'll talk. Until then, I know you and I know your face."

"Who are you," Dave demanded again.

"An old friend of Shades'. Of your _Bro_'s," she replied. "Well, I was just stopping in to say hello, maybe take a peep at the kid who stole our life of riches. See you later, brat." She reached over and ruffled his hair, causing him to violently shrink away from her touch. But she just laughed, turned and waved.

And then she was gone.


	100. Lens 100

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

Dave watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the sheets and the knot in his stomach slowly began to unclench. As long as she was sleeping, they were just that much closer to getting her back on the right track, the one that led to health and longevity and maybe even eventual recovery.

Maybe.

His arm was starting to fall asleep, but he didn't dare move. She looked too peaceful cradled in the crook of his elbow. Hell, he could endure the pins and needles for her—especially when she made that face. Unlined and unguarded and finally stress free.

Unable to resist, he pulled her closer. She moved a little under his touch, but didn't wake.

Harley.

Then the dread started to creep up his back, cold and unforgiving. Maybe he shouldn't have been that lenient. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe when she was awake—_awake_ awake, actually awake, without all the stress and the worry and the flip outs crowding her already insomnia-addled mind—maybe then she'd rethink the situation. Would she be upset? Of course she fucking would, anyone would. Damn, he should have thought this through better.

He should have thought.

_Way to go, Strider,_ Dave chided himself. _Congratulations on fucking this up, too._

Literally.

Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It wasn't like she had expected a romantic, right? He wasn't John. There would be no flowers or wooing with him. He wasn't the sort of guy to pick up books on wedding gowns and cakes and flower arrangements on a whim, then read them to his beloved. That was all John. He was just a guy who didn't really know _what_ the hell he was supposed to do, and he wasn't about to go making a big deal about it. That's not what cool guys did.

…Right?

Jade turned over, still apparently in the midst of sleep, and collapsed back down on his arm. Her hair tickled his nose and he tried to move ever so slightly, just enough to keep the strands from snaking their way up his nostrils. Goddamn, why did she have so much hair? Maybe he'd ask her to start…start… Well, braiding it or tying it up or whatever shit people did when their hair was long and everywhere. Something to keep it out of the damn way.

That was, if she wasn't pissed at him in the morning.

Dave suppressed a groan. Why the hell had he been such a prick? He may be a Strider, but there were some human fucking decencies that he probably missed out on somewhere down the line. Like maybe a declaration of love or commitment or at least an expensive dinner. Wasn't that some sort of rule? Dinner and a movie? Fuck if he knew.

But…it was difficult to panic too much with her sleeping so quietly beside him. The regret would probably hit later, and hit him hard, but for now… Maybe it was okay to just be content. She was sleeping, after all, and it didn't seem like she was suffering through any nightmares.

For one bewildered moment, Dave wasn't sure whether he'd even be able to tell if he would be able to tell if she was. He would, right? It would have to show somehow. Maybe she'd twitch and growl like that old dog that lived near the school, as though she was chasing a rabbit or—

No, that was stupid. Hell, for Harley, that was probably a common occurrence.

_Don't be such an asshole_, Dave thought angrily. _She's not a dog and she's not about to dream about fucked up things like chasing rabbits. That's not even a fucking nightmare; she could probably blast the head off a bunny at fifty yards if she wanted to._

Dave gave her a light hug, trying to force the strange half-thoughts from his mind. This was fucking stupid and he was stupid for thinking it. The only thing he really had to worry about right now was the event that she would—

Jade rolled suddenly to face him, moving her arm from across her eyes to look up at him, blinking the last vestiges of sleep away. "Dave…?"

Fuck.


	101. Lens 101

**Age 24**

Dave leaned back in the plush chair, smiling the most imperceptible of imperceptible cool guy smiles. Tonight he was king of the sound stage, and he wasn't about to let anyone take that away from him. He had managed to pull himself through the murky shroud of talentless floundering he had woven and, in doing so, created one of the best motherfucking soundtracks of _all time_.

Self proclaimed, of course.

He pulled Jade closer to him and she snuggled against his side, eyes fixed on the screen. Ever since the game he had developed a sort of subtle repulsion to evening gowns, but _damn_. She had pretty much erased the last vestiges of that the moment she stepped out of her dressing room.

Dave glanced over at John, who of course, didn't notice the blonde boy's gaze. Dave's smile twitched a little further across his face and this time John recognized it. The once dorky dropout was now an equally dorky but completely successful director, with the tailored suit and fashionable scruffy coif to prove it. John gave him a x2 thumbs up combo and a grin. This was really John's day, of course, but fuck if Dave wasn't going to take his credit where it was due. He had pulled together something pretty spectacular.

Celebrities and critics milled about the fancy theatre, talking in low but prestigious voices, swirling cocktails and complimenting each other. Rose wrinkled her nose slightly and folded her arms, though Dave knew she was really enjoying herself beneath the charade of disinterest.

"When do you think it's going to start?" Jade asked, either unwilling or unable to keep the excitement from her voice.

"Patience, Harley," Dave scolded. "Good things come to those who don't spill martini all over themselves in squirrely anticipation." That earned him an elbow to the ribs and he took a moment to double over, though partially due to the silent laughter that had welled up inside him.

"Fuck you!" Jade replied, narrowing her eyes. "I can't help it if I want to see my brother's work. He's kind of a big deal, you know."

"Oh," Dave asked. "And what about your equally talented boyfriend."

"'Equally'?" John repeated. "I dunno about that, Dave. I'm pretty sure I made this into the thing of beauty that it is."

"Yeah. You and your love of Nic Cage," Dave replied with a subtle snort.

"You know it's way more than that," John began to argue. He stopped suddenly, however, catching site of his favourite actor in the crowd, and quickly busied himself with one of his many cell phones.

After another half hour or so of waiting, the lights began to dim and everyone took their seats, critics poised and ready to take note. John was sitting very still, probably out of nerves, and Rose was stroking his hand gently, cooing soft words of encouragement that only he could hear. The title scrawled across the screen—_Keeping Bears._

Dave, on the other hand, was cool as ice. He crossed one leg over the other with plenty of room to spare, his focus only semi applied to the screen. He had seen the movie dozens of times before, of course, and heard it an inestimable number more. In his case, it was his significant other that seemed to be near exploding with excitement. He had made sure she hadn't seen nor heard so much as a scene from the movie—much to John's annoyance. The production company wasn't aware, but once in a while John would copy a scene or two to a memory stick to take home and show off. He hadn't been caught yet, though, so he was in no mood to stop.

Jade watched the opening credits eagerly, trying to take it all in at once. Dave rubbed her arm gently, but he was pretty sure she had forgotten he was there at all. Eventually he gave up trying to calm her down and let his arm rest across her back. If she was that excited for this, he'd let her stay that way.

In fact, it gave him something to do. He was sick to death of watching this damned movie, so he opted instead to watch her reactions to the scenes. He studied the details of her face, of her expression, as she widened her eyes at a particularly tense scene, or else let out a long, slow sigh of relief as it was resolved.

Dave lost track of time in all his observation and soon the screen blacked out to the credits. While he had noted it to be the tradition of average movie-goers to book it the moment a film had ended, the theatre stayed dark and silent as the list of names scrolled across the screen, white on black with faded designs twisting along the sides to break the monotony. Eventually, those, too, ended, until the theatre was a deathly still and a solitary five words appeared on the screen.

_ With special thanks to Dave._

The lights grew steadily brighter now until the theatre was fully illuminated once again, as though nothing had ever happened.

Dave looked over at John and, for one of the few times in his life, gave him an unreserved grin.

"No problem, dude."


	102. Lens 102

**Obscura ~ Age 22**

"Are you sure this is okay?" Jade asked, peering through the window apprehensively.

"Would you care if it wasn't," Dave replied.

She turned to him and grinned. "Nope!"

"Though so."

"Come on. Buy me a scarf!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the small shop. Dave waited as she browsed the selection. He wondered silently how such sheer, basic strips of fabric could cost so much. How hard was it to make a goddamn scarf?

Jade scurried back to him and held up two different scarves for him to view. "Do you think I should get this one or this one?"

"The red one."

"Okay!" she replied, quite clearly putting the red one back and taking the green one to the front counter. She grinned at him again. Keeping his face devoid of expression, as was his standard, he paid for the scarf and Jade wore it out of the store.

"Do you like it?" she teased, dangling the very not red scarf before his shaded eyes.

He shrugged. "Green's your colour."

"You're such a flatterer."

"Well, I've got enough material to work with to make it a pretty simple task."

Jade elbowed him in the side, but it was clear she was feeling rather pleased. "Do you want to take pictures now?"

"Now that you're all scarfed up," he asked. "Yeah, sure. Where do you want to do this."

"This isn't my city, Dave," she replied. "I don't know where we're supposed to go! You're taking the pictures, _you_ make the decision!"

"Yeah, yeah. Alright, then. How tired are you."

Jade hesitated, running her hands over the soft fabric of the scarf in careful deliberation. "I'm okay for now."

That wasn't particularly helpful to Dave, but he decided to roll with the punches. "Alright. There's a park pretty close by. As long as we don't stay too late, it won't be too shady."

"Lots of light is good, right?"

"Not what I meant by shady," he replied. "And light's good, sure, but not too much."

"Okay! Whatever you say, Mr. Photographer!"

Dave gave a tiny smile and proceeded to lead her down the street to the entrance of the park. He waited as she ran off to explore the new area, and she returned with a small flower clutched tightly between her fingers.

"Look what I found!"

"Looks like one of them managed to live through the frost," Dave said amiably. Patiently, he bent down and let her weave it into his hair, tucking the stem behind his ear.

"There! A token for my precious knight."

Dave's stomach turned, but he refused to let it show. "I guess we're even now."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow quizzically, grin still playing across her features.

"Yeah. A scarf for a flower. Seems fair."

She laughed. "Come on! Let's take some pictures before we freeze out here."

He paused. "Are you cold."

"Not yet! But I will be if you don't hurry your ass up!"

Dave gave a little laugh-snort, the closest to genuine laughter a cool guy like him could afford. "Alright, alright. Let's see what we can work with."

"I thought you said I'd be perfect!"

"You, yeah. Even with a perfect model, the pictures can still come out as complete shit."

"Fine. But you'd better direct me! It's not going to be my fault if you fuck up."

"Yeah, yeah." He ran his hand from the top of her head down her hair.

"And it's not my fault if you mess up my hair, either."

"Got it."

Jade reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "So, what do I do?"

"Well, let's go for a sunshine twist first. Show off that figure for me."

"Do a what?"

"You stand with your legs kind of apart and then turn with your hand on your hip so you—fuck it, here, do it like this." Dave put his equipment down and mimicked the pose, complete with his own rendition of a model's pout. That earned him a hearty laugh out of Jade, though he wasn't sure whether to feel insulted or justified.

Thankfully, it turned out that Jade was a quick learner. As she grew more comfortable having photos taken, she required fewer and fewer instructions. Soon, he just let her do her own thing, snapping pictures when the situation seemed right. He got a few with a halo, like he had wanted, and some good shots that played with the light and the shadows. Some, though, he took for fun; his professors and his peers didn't deserve to see all the facets of the model that was Jade Harley. He had earned that position, and he was damned well going to covet it.

Eventually, however, he began to notice her shivering on the other side of the lens. He set the camera down in the bag and wrapped an arm around her.

"Chilly, Harley," he asked.

"I guess so," she replied, blowing on her hands. "Maybe next time _someone_ should lend me another sweater!"

"Pretty sure you just stole my last one," he argued. "But point taken. We'll get you a coat." Then he pulled her into a full embrace. "Let's go back," he breathed into her hair. "Get you warmed up. Making some tea or cocoa or whatever the hell weird-ass island shit you drink."

"Do we have to?"

"What."

"This is kind of fun. I've never done it before."

"Nah, babe. It only gets better from here."

"Dave, I'm not really sure if you're making some kind of perverted sex joke or not, but I hope you're right."

Dave smiled into her hair. "A little from column A, a little from column B. Come on. We can do it again another time."

"Promise?"

"Yeah."

That seemed to set things right, and Jade pulled away to try and help him pack up his equipment. He may have loved her, but there was no way in hell he'd let someone so inexperienced touch his camera.

"Sorry, Harley. Strider hands only," he said, lifting a lens out of her reach.

"Fine." Jade went back to admiring her new scarf instead. Dave zipped up the last pocket on his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"Alright. Let's do this. Let's make cocoa happen."

"I've got the cups!" Jade replied, playing along.

"Mm. Damn right you do."

"Dave! God, you have such a dirty mind."

"Can you blame me," he replied.

"Nope! I'm _sexy_."

"Damn right you are."

Jade giggled, then stopped abruptly in her tracks. Dave bumped into her, confused at the sudden action—or lack thereof.

"What's up, Harley," he asked, but she was too focussed on something in the distance to reply.

"That boy…" Jade said. "He looks…doesn't he look kind of familiar?"

Dave followed her gaze to catch sight of a boy dressed completely in orange and white striding down the sidewalk. He narrowed his eyes, trying to catch more details.

"Yeah, I think so. Maybe we passed him on the street or something on the way here."

Jade shook her head, trying desperately to remember. "No, I don't think that's it."

"Well, we could ask him."

Jade's responding, "No, don't!" crossed with Dave's shout of, "Hey, kid!"

The boy looked up and an expression of purest terror shone immediately from his face. He was frozen there for an instant, then turned on his heel and took off down the street, running as fast as his legs would carry him.

"No, stop! Godammit." Dave sighed. "Sorry, Harley. Guess I fucked that up."

"No," Jade replied, sounding rather unsure of herself. "Maybe it's better this way."

"Huh. You want to explain something to me there, Harley," Dave asked. "Is this some sort of love affair you're not telling me about."

The pained confusion on her face washed away and was replaced with her casual grin. "Nope! My lovers are _way_ better looking than that. Gosh, Dave, it's like you think I _wouldn't_ date a legion of underwear models!"

"You never know. Maybe you had to fulfill the need for a bit of ginger loving on the side."

Jade shook her head and laughed, though the strangely strained quality was back in her voice. She was still trying to remember, but it wasn't coming to her. After a few moments of silence, she decided to give up.

"It's for the best," she mumbled at length, though she wasn't sure why she was justifying something like this to herself over someone she had never met.

"What," said Dave.

"Nothing!"


	103. Lens 103

**Obscura ~ Age 25**

Today, John took center stage.

The audience applauded as he took his seat beside the other distinguished guests, then fell silent as the aurator began his long-winded speech. Awards, fame, money, staying humble... Dave snorted. Egbert wasn't humble-he knew he had made a pretty damn good thing, and he had enough Oscars to prove it. The man was a goddamn slavedriver when it came to work. Dave didn't mind, of course, because his soundtracks were always the epitome of awesome and he would have worked like an obsessor with or without John breathing down his neck. They were an unbeatable movie team and, now that _Keeping Bears_ was over and done with, they could move on to even bigger and better things.

That is, once Egbert had a good long vacation. The kid had been starting to look pretty rough the past few months, and they had all been starting to worry. He couldn't take the stress very well, and he spent far too much time away from his sanity anchor, Lalonde. Some lengthy R and R was in demand for People Magazine's voted Most Desirable Director. They had all had a good laugh at that one (minus Jade, who just nodded, grinned and agreed), but it seemed to raise John's spirits a little, and he wasn't above bringing it up once in a while when the situation called for it.

Dave's lip twitched in slight appreciation for his little bro. He had fucked up a while back in an interview, pissing off a good portion of his fanbase with his rant about nutcases harassing Rose (a legitimate concern), and the company had decided to hide him from the public eye until the flames of scandal had died down and the media had grown bored. Today was the day that John was supposed to step back into the limelight, if only a little, to test the waters and perhaps regain a favourable regard from the sponsors.

No, today was a pretty good day for the little man. He'd be back in business before they knew it, making fresh and creative new cinematic mindfucks for the masses. It was exciting.

John took the stage and Dave smugly thought about how far he'd come since a few years back. Sometimes he went downhill, sure-but then, they all did. You could only avoid it so long before it decided to rear its ass-ugly head and wreak havoc on your life. Somehow they'd manage to get through it, though, and now John was standing in his stylish suit (truly, a proud moment, despite the glaring oversight of the garrish bowtie at his throat) in front of a crowd of his diehard fans, about to deliver a mindblowing speech addressing his previous faux-pas (with enough layers of irony set to bury an elephant, thanks to Dave's minor edits). It was going to be _beautiful._

The bespectacled brunette had just gotten to the part about his undying affection for his wife blinding him to his duties (it was Dave's favourite, as ridiculous as it was hilarious, and by the sound of Jade's giggle, it was hers too) when Dave heard a familiar click ring out through the crowd. No one else seemed to really notice (though Jade's eyebrows suddenly knit together, deep in concentration) so he paid it little heed, trying vaguely to place where he'd heard it before.

There was a bang, a scream, and he knew.

It was the safety on a gun being unlatched before the killing blow.

He turned immediately to Jade and they shared a single glance and a heartbeat before she was off and running, dress hitched to her thigh, going right after the shooter in a display of badassery he would later have a panic attack over. Not now, though-his mind was white and numb and he barely registered what she was doing. It was focussed on one thing and one thing only: the survival status of John Egbert.

Dave had been front-row and center during the ceremony and it gave him a perfect vantage point for surveying the carnage onstage. John was down and on the floor and in an instant, Dave had flashed beside him, all instinct and nerves. He was pressing down on the bullet hole before he could even remember _why_ and he was shouting instructions he couldn't hear. Someone-no, many people-were on cellphones, all dialing emergency services and talking and screaming and crying. The pandemonium at the podium was nothing compared to the panicked outbreak in the crowd. Everyone was running to and fro, cameras lay tilted and abandoned, cords being tripped over and tugged loose as passersby rushed to get away from the long-gone assassin.

Dave could feel the blood pumping through his fingers, hot and sticky and all too familiar. He pushed harder and he heard a choke of pain, but it was a necessary evil in his mind and he wasn't going to lose his friend. Not now. Not after everything they'd done.

The EMTs arrived and pulled John away onto white stretchers soon stained with the same blood that covered Dave's once spotless suit, his hands, his face. Mindlessly he followed them, and when they protested his presence he just shoved them aside and took his place in the corner of the ambulence. Someone (probably important) was saying something he couldn't discern and then they stopped arguing immediately and slammed the doors shut. People seemed to be all around him, doing things, obscuring his view of his best friend and all he could do was stare blankly and press himself ever tighter into the back, out of the way.

He didn't know what was happening.

His brain had stopped processing all information. He knew _something_ was happening because he knew that sounds and sights and smells were all _happening_ he just couldn't...couldn't...

His world started spinning and he squeezed his eyes shut. For a moment, everything was dark and silent.

Then, they arrived.


	104. Lens 104

**Obscura ~ Age 20**

"Hey."

The word hung in the air, uncertain, and there was little Dave could see in the darkened room to reassure him of the acceptance of his presence.

"Hi, Dave."

An inaudible breath of relief. She wasn't telling him to leave, that was good. From the sound of it, she had already spent her fight in the few days she had with Lalonde before he and Egbert had arrived. Now she was just tired.

"Getting any sleep," Dave asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Everything was shrouded in a hazy darkness that he knew was at least in part the fault of his shades, but with everything being as it was at the moment, he didn't want to take them off. He needed them. He clung to them, his last anchor of reality.

"No." Jade sat up, rustling the covers, her shoulders hunched and her long hair obscuring her face.

"I thought so." Dave reached out to push the overgrown fringe from her eyes, back behind her ears, but she recoiled. "Still mad, then."

"Of course I'm pissed, Dave!" she snapped, though her voice lacked any real emphasis. She was too tired. "You tricked me and I trusted you!"

"You know why, right?"

"No, I don't, actually. I'm not John, Dave! You could have, I don't know, maybe fucking _asked_ first? I'm still a reasonable human being!"

"I know," Dave said quickly. "I know. I'm sorry. It was just-we couldn't, right. We only had one chance. We had to make sure you'd come."

"Yeah, well, pretty shitty way to do it! I was scared, Dave, I thought you-I thought you were-"

"I know." He pressed his palm to the top of her head and she shivered. "Calm down."

"I _am_ calm!"

"Sure," agreed Dave, though it clear she was the furthest thing from it. "Come on, Harley. Just relax."

"How can I relax when my best friends don't even trust me!" she snapped. "When my _boyfriend_ doesn't even trust me! Do you realize what kind of slap to the face this is? I thought I-I thought I was doing okay!"

"I trust you," Dave said quietly. "I trust you. This isn't about trust, Harley."

"Well it sure seems like it should be! Assbutt!"

"You're getting thinner."

Her eyes widened and Dave knew it had been harsh, but he had to make her understand. She was too important.

That may have been why he didn't see the slap coming.

"Fuck!" said Dave, pressing his palm to his now painfully throbbing cheek. "What the hell."

"You asshole!" she shouted. "What the fuck is wrong with you? I'm not the one that needs to see-"

"You both do. I'm going to schedule you an appointment at the same time, the doctor can look at both you and Egbert at the same time. It'll be easier," Dave said, still cradling his injury. Fuck. She hit way harder than should be possible, power born of a life alone on an island. She never held back.

"That's not easier!"

"We've also been thinking," said Dave, deciding to give up and show all the cards in his hand at once because what the hell, he'd already been hit once, "that when everyone else goes home, you should stay at Egbert's house for a couple of months."

"Dave, I don't nee-"

"Yeah, but he _does_." Dave leaned back, never taking his eyes off her. "You know how he is. He's okay with people but when we leave he's fucked. He needs someone to stay with him for a while and Rose and I can't do it. You're the only person who can, Harley."

"Don't treat him like he's just some stupid burden!"

"We're not! Fuck, Harley, we're trying. It's pretty fucking hard to keep this all together and Rose can't do it alone and, honestly, I can't either. We need your help and you need our help."

"I don't need a doctor. I was getting better!"

"It doesn't look like that."

"I was getting better, Dave!"

Dave leaned forward and curled his hands around her hips. "Look. You're getting smaller, Harley, don't fight me on that. You know it's true. I don't want you turning into John."

"I'm not turning into John!"

"Yeah, not yet. But if it keeps happening, you might. Stay on this side of the boundary, Harley. Get some help. You want to sleep, don't you?"

"Dave, I'm not even a citizen!"

"Doesn't matter. We found a good guy."

"I'm pretty sure it'll fucking matter!"

"No, it doesn't. We checked. He's a good guy, Harley, swear to god. If he wasn't, we wouldn't be letting him come anywhere near you or Egbert. But he's perfect. Come on. If you don't want to do it for yourself, do it for me."

"I'm not doing anything for you!" She squirmed and Dave pulled away. "And don't touch me anymore!"

Dave was at a loss. He didn't know how to fix this, what to say to make her feel better. She pressed herself at the headboard, arms wrapped tightly around her torso, still shrouded in locks of raven hair. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, but at the same time, he didn't really fancy the idea of an elbow to the balls-something that would assuredly be the case if he did so.

"What do you want, Harley?" he asked, actually asked, at last. "Do you want me to go to see him, too? Solidarity among the problem patch kids?"

Harley let out an annoyed hiss. "No, Dave."

"Are you sure? Maybe it'll be better if we all go. Then you don't...then it doesn't matter if you think you were doing better. Maybe you were. I don't know."

"Dave, unless you really think something's wrong, don't go. Unlike _you_, I'm not selfish."

"But-"

"Dave, if you go, he's going to make you take your shades off. Do you really think you could deal with that?"

Now it was Dave's turn to recoil, uncool as it made him seem. He hadn't considered that at all when he had made the offer. He would have to take his glasses off, expose his devil peepers to a man in a white coat. Harley was right: he couldn't handle it.

"Doesn't matter," Dave said, jaw set in a determination that desperately tried to mask his fear and uncertainty and pain. "If you want me to, I'll go."

"Dave, I don't want you to! Jesus! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I don't know how to fix this!" he blurted. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Harley. Fuck."

Jade sighed, though clearly still irritated. "Look, Dave. I'm just really angry right now and I haven't slept in fucking forever. Just leave me alone."

"I love you."

Her eyes narrowed and her lips drew back in a perfect imitation of Bec's snarl, fists curled into balls, ready to strike if he pushed her over the edge. "If you're saying that just because I'm mad at you, I'm not going to forgive you. That's a pretty shitty thing to do, Dave, trying to-"

But Dave was pretty tired, himself, and stressed, and in pain. He had just about had enough of fighting losing battles and was ready to surrender. _Might as well make the most of it, though_, he decided. With that, he reached forward and, despite her protests and her threats, pulled her into his arms.

"I love you," he said again.

She clawed at his arms but he didn't release her. "Dave, you stupid shithead, let go of me. You're shitty at manipulating, you know that? And then you lose so you play some dirty underhanded card and-"

"I love you." He buried his face in her soft hair, deaf to her insults.

"Dave, it's-it's not-it's not _fair._"

"I know."

"I was doing better!"

"I know," he breathed. "You're trying really hard, Harley, I get that. Sometimes it just doesn't work. Trust a Strider on that, alright. Maybe this is as far as it goes without some outside help."

"I don't want to do this, Dave."

"Neither do I. It's gotta get done, though."

The struggling that had slowly been on the wane ceased completely now, and she leaned back into his arms. "And you'll be there?"

"Yeah. I'll hold your hand the whole fucking way, regardless of what Dr. Sexy says."

"Doctor-doctor what?"

"Right. Shit. Sorry, maybe I should have led with that. Rose says he's pretty damn attractive."

"Yeah...?" For a moment, Dave almost detected a hint of humour in her voice. "What's his name?"

"Dunno. Dr. Maryam or something."

"Really? Hm. Dr. Sexy. I like that."

"I thought you would."

"You sure you're okay with this, then, Dave? There will be lots of alone time with Dr. Sexy when I'm living with John. There will be..._nudity_."

Dave allowed a laugh. "Yeah, I can handle that."

"Oh? So you're not even a liiiittle bit jealous?"

"Maybe a little. Guess I'll just have to make up for it somehow."

"Make up for it?"

"Yeah. I've gotta make sure my little pup isn't going to go running off with some new asshole, don't I?" He brushed his lips against her neck. "Maybe I'll buy you a shiny new ball or something."

"Dave, I'm not a fucking dog!"

"Nah. You're better." He rubbed his thumbs against her sides and she reached up and papped him on the cheek.

"I'm tired, Dave."

"I know."

"No, I'm tired, we're not doing this right now."

"Jesus, Harley, get your mind out of the gutter. My intentions were completely innocent, pure as driven snow."

"Oh, sure. I tooootally believe you."

"You should."

Jade her head on his chest. "...So this is going to happen, huh."

"Looks like it."

"And I don't have a choice?"

Dave paused for a minute, still rubbing his fingers in circles against her hips. "You have a choice. I'm no puppet master, Harley. If you really don't want to, I can't _make_ you go. I just...it's best if you do, objectively, right. Might as well do everything in your power to try and get better."

"...Yeah."

"You're a good girl. If you don't think it's right, don't do it. We'll figure something out."

"I'll do it."

"Yeah?"

"But not because you guys tricked me! That was still a really assholey thing to do, and I'm still really mad about it."

"Of course." He kissed her neck again.

"No, I'm not joking, I'm still pissed! But...I mean, maybe I wasn't... Look, you're a complete idiot but you're right. It won't hurt to try."

"Yeah. Good girl. I'll get you a biscuit."

"I told you, I'm not a dog!" She elbowed him hard in the gut.

"Ow, fuck, right, point taken. You are as un-canine as they come."

"Damn straight." Momentarily, she ghosted her fingers over the slap mark on his face. Despite Dave's efforts, he still flinched under her touch. "...Sorry. Maybe I went a little far."

"It's fine."

"You deserved it, though," she said.

"Yeah, I know." He ruffled his fingers through her hair. "Even if I did, though, maybe it's time we taught you not to win arguments with violence."

"I'm not five!"

"Prove it," he said. "Next time, words first, not fists."

"You're insufferable."

"That's the common consensus, yeah."

Jade snorted, then sighed. "Dave...I'm really tired."

"Want to try to sleep."

"Yeah."

"Want me to leave."

There was a long moment of hesitation before, quietly, she said, "No. Stay."

Dave nodded, letting her crawl off his lap and back under the covers. He joined her shortly after, curling a protective arm around her waist. "Try and get some sleep, Harley."

"I know." She buried her face in his shoulder and he stroked her hair absently. "I still haven't forgiven you."

"Yeah. Night."

"Night."

Before long, the darkness of the room closed in around them and with it came true but troubled sleep.


	105. Lens 105

**Obscura ~ Age 20**

"Don't stare."

Despite Dave's warning, Jade's gaze slid from his face and she began to turn. "I can't help it."

"Don't." Dave quickly drew her attention back, grasping her bare arms and giving them a rub. "Come on. Feast those grassy peepers on me instead."

Jade rolled her eyes and Dave could tell she was itching to go over there. "Gee, Dave, way to be self-centered."

But for once, Dave was being pretty damn considerate. John sat shirtless in the shade, talking to a faintly blushing Rose, his scars exposed for all to see. Jade's line of vision began to travel again. She was getting antsy.

"Harley."

"Shit, Dave, it's hard! You're used to it, you don't have this problem!" she replied. "He's my brother!" She tugged a little at his grasp, but he held fast.

"I know, Harley. I know. Just chill it with the overt ogles though, alright, you'll freak the poor kid out."

"He's freaking _me_ out!" She bit her lip, brows creased in worry. "I feel so bad. Poor John…"

"I know. I know." Dave moved a hand from her shoulder to her head and ran his fingers through her hair, drawing the lengthy fringe from her face and smoothing it back behind her ear. She leaned into the touch, more out of habit than current comfort. "Just be subtle. Calm."

"I _am _calm!"

"Sure, sure."

"Don't patronize me, you giant bag of dicks." She glared at him but he knew it was in jest, so he wrapped her tight in his arms and crushed her to his chest.

"Too bad we don't have a spare set of shades. They make spying pretty damn simple."

"Lend me yours."

Dave faltered a little, releasing her. "It's…it's bright out." He wanted to let her borrow them, to help both her and John out, but he couldn't. He just…couldn't.

She watched him carefully for a minute, trailing fingertips down his arm. "Sorry."

"Nah, my fault." He ruffled her hair, his own gaze being drawn in by the gangly kid chilling in the shadows. He could understand Jade's feelings, but he couldn't give in to them.

John waved.

"Shit, he sees us," said Dave.

"Of course he sees us. We're standing right in front of him," Jade replied, waving back and smilling.

"He can hear you, too," John called, grinning cheekily as he stood up.

"Fuck." Dave rubbed his temples with his forefinger and thumb, but Jade just laughed as John made his way across the hot sand.

"Alright, I'll give you five minutes staring time. After that, we're good, right?" John said. "No more being uncomfortable."

"Okay. Starting now." So Jade focussed hard on the pale streaks across her brother's chest, her eyes wide and her cheeks slightly sucked in with concentration. It would almost be funny to watch if it weren't so chock-full of fridge sadness.

Fluidly, John reached over and flicked at the hem of Dave's shirt. "Hey, what happened to good old-fashioned solidarity? What's with the cover-up?"

"I burn," said Dave. He could already feel the sun trying to peel his first coat of sunscreen off, and his neck was getting uncomfortably warm. He ran a hand over it and the skin felt hot to the touch. Shit. He'd definitely be regretting this later.

"Sure you do. It's alright, I get it. You can't bear to compete with my manly, muscled chest."

Dave's eyes travel up John's skinny torso. "Oh, yeah. That's definitely it. You caught me, bro, I'm just too wimpy to be seen next to you. Are you going to kick over my sandcastle next."

"Of course not. You'd take out an ad at the back of a comic book and come back a steroid-soaked monster. I don't want you hulking out on us, thanks," John replied. "Besides, I hear—and this is just rumours—that those programs do shit-all. Because, you know, they're at the back of comic books."

"Are you kidding me. So those x-ray specs I bought don't work. Damn."

John laughed and clapped Dave on the shoulder. The kid was being pretty jovial today. Dave wanted to enjoy it, but he was worried. He hoped it wasn't all an act. He hoped John really was just feeling up to it, that their companionship was helping. He wanted his friend to feel better.

"Time's up," Dave said to Jade, still surveying John carefully. "His eyes are up there."

"Okay, I'm good. I promise," Jade replied. "John, let's play! I saw a volleyball down the beach a bit, we could hit it around!"

"You're going to steal a—" Dave began.

"Sounds great!" said John. "I'll race you."

"You'll lose," said Jade, and she tore off down the strip, kicking up sand as she went. Her black hair ravened out behind her, a clear marker of her presence-even when she grew smaller in the distance.

"Cheater!" John raced after her, leaving Dave behind to think about what to do.

Deciding he didn't want to suffer the fate of one of Jade's powerful spikes to the face, he turned and went to sit with Rose under the shade of her massive purple umbrella.

"Oh? Have you decided to sit this game out?" she asked, flipping the page of her book.

"Yeah, well, safety first." Dave leaned back on his elbows. "I'll burn to death in that fucking sun if I'm out much longer."

"I'd say the process has already started." Rose glanced up from the novel and prodded the reddened skin on his cheek.

"Shit," said Dave. He searched around in their overstuffed duffel bag for a few minutes before unearthing the sunscreen and applying liberally to his everything. It was gross and slimy, but if it kept him from becoming a charred remnant of the man he once was, well, it was worth it.

"Good boy," said Rose.

"You need some," he asked. "Shade or no shade, you'll burn like a motherfucker with my genes."

"That may be wise. Will you get my back?"

"No," said Dave immediately.

"Oh, come now, Strider. I thought you were going to protect me? That blanket statement should include the threat of cancer, I should think."

He glowered at her black smirk and squeezed a handful of sunscreen into his palm. "Manipulative bitch."

"I learn from the best."

Awkwardly, Dave slapped the lotion on her back. It stayed there, white and uneven, but he considered his job done well enough.

Rose, however, did not. "Is that what you call protecting me? I will have to invest in bodyguards, it seems. I hope you aren't like this with our dear Harley. She won't last very long with this sort of 'care'."

"Fuck you."

"Come now, Strider. Be a good boy and finish what you've started."

"I hate you." Dave evened out the sunscreen as Rose snickered, not noticing the attention they'd garnered in the process.

"Good idea," said John, picking up the bottle and slathering himself. "Hey, Jade, come here, I'll get your back.

"Thanks!" Jade approached and John began to work the sunscreen in, shooting positively evil looks at Dave as he went.

"Your skin is so smooth," said John.

"Your hands are nice," said Jade.

"You guys are the devil," said Dave.

"Oh? Jealous?" John asked, blue eyes twinkling mischievously. "Hey, man, not my fault. You guys are the ones that didn't invite us to the sunscreen party. Fair's fair."

"She made me do it," Dave snapped, jabbing a thumb in Rose's direction.

"Really, now, Dave. Blaming others? I expected better of you."

"Asshole," said Dave. Then, he corrected, "Assholes."

"Aw, come on, Dave. You know we're only joking." John plunked down beside his blonde friend, slinging a long arm around his shoulders.

"Yeah, Dave. We're playing." Jade took the other side, slinking her own arm around his waist.

"Yeah. Playing."

"A game."

"Of volleyball." John grinned.

"Oh, shit, no," said Dave.

"Oh," said John. "Oh, yes." And with that, the two siblings dragged Dave from his spot in the shade back out to the sunny beach.

"Let's play a game," said Jade, with all the voicing of a horror film. Bro had taught her well.

"No," said Dave.

"Let's play it…_to win_."

"What does that even—"

"_To. Win._"


	106. Lens 106

**Obscura ~ Age 25**

"I don't want to."

"Sucks for you," said Dave. "You're going."

The ginger boy shirked away but Dave pressed on. "Come on. It'll be fun. I'll buy you something pretty."

"Fuck you."

"Cute lil guy, aren't you. No wonder Lalonde and Egbert kept you all to themselves. I would, too," said Dave. He meant it teasingly but it came out wrong and he quickly found himself on the business end of a fist. "Jesus!" Dave's hands flew into balls before he knew it and his feet had already begun to burn with the jittering crackle that preceded flashsteps.

Davesprite watched him, unimpressed. "If you think you can fight me, you're dumber than I thought."

"I dunno. Seems like a pretty even match."

"It's not." As if a mirage, Davesprite flickered out of sight and Dave was slammed against the brick wall before he could even take a breath. "It's really not."

But Dave just started laughing, ignoring the gritty sting against his cheek. "You're pretty good."

"I'm the best, you prick."

"Right, right." Dave lifted his palms in peace and, cautiously, Davesprite let him go.

Wrong move.

Now it was Davesprite flat against the pavement, struggling against Dave's grip. The kid was quick but Dave was strong and no matter how much Davesprite tried to wheedle his way out, Dave held him fast.

Eventually, he tired out. "No way to treat your elder, jackoff."

"I make exceptions," said Dave. "Especially when the elder in question is in molting season."

"Get off of me."

"You didn't say the magic words."

"Get off of me, I know where you live, you gigantic prick."

"Was that so hard." Dave let go and Davesprite rolled to his feet. There was technique in his movements, a fluidness that even Dave didn't think he had. He really was used to living life on the streets.

"Give me one reason I should go with you," Davesprite demanded. The ginger's speech had changed, become lower, harsher-Dave could hear it—and it was like he was listening to a recording of himself.

"It'd make Rose happy."

Davesprite squirmed a little, fighting an inner battle. Dave wasn't privy to all the details, but he'd worked out a few and he knew that his doppelganger was pretty damn attached to his ectosib. Dave was pretty sure he knew why, too.

"You have to let go," Dave said.

"Of what?" Davesprite suddenly sounded different again, too startled to slip behind the mask Dave's worn all his life. It was a little cruel of him, but Dave found it interesting. So that was what he'd be like in that timeline.

"You know what." Dave took a step forward and Davesprite reacted inversely, slinking back.

"How about you school me up on it."

Before Davesprite could run away, Dave lunged forward and gripped him by the shoulders, too tight to allow for escape. Davesprite tried to pull away and failed. The instant he knew he'd been caught, his game changed. His orange eyes narrowed and he grinned—_grinned?_—up at the blonde boy, taunting him.

"Do you want to take what's left?" Davesprite offered. "It's alright. It's only natural, you being the alpha Dave, me being the doomed sonofabitch left to rot here."

"Jesus Christ, I'm not taking anything from you so chill the fuck out for a minute," said Dave.

"Hey, man. I'm cool. You're the one with your talons in my bony bits."

Dave bit his tongue and released his double. "Look. I just want to hang out. That's seriously all this is."

"To you, sure." Davesprite snorted. "You get to think like that. That's the fucking prize you've won. Me on the other hand, I was never supposed to meet you again. I'm not even supposed to be talking to you now but _fuck_,you make that pretty damn hard."

"I've seen you before," said Dave, slowly understanding. "A few times. You were…you were on the train, weren't you, and in the park."

"I've been other places, too, you're just too stupid to notice."

"Yeah, alright. I get it. You hate me."

"I don't hate you!" Davesprite shouted. "I want to fucking _be_ you! What the hell do you not understand about that? You have my life, my friends, my house—except they aren't mine, they're yours, because this is _your_ world and I'm just some shitty leftovers the game glitched into being as some kind of sick joke!"

_Thud._

Davesprite stumbled at the force of the punch, crashing backwards into a wall. He glared up at Dave, looking truly furious. Even now, Dave couldn't help but admire the expression of rage on his face. That could have been him over there, looking like that, but he wasn't and Dave had never really seen a range of anything on his own face.

"They're yours too," Dave said calmly.

"They're not. They're yours. Everything is yours."

"You're a goddamn idiot." Dave shook his head. "How the hell did I get so fucked up, forgetting the basic fucking _rules_ of how this thing played out."

"Rules?" Davesprite repeated, the mocking grin still plastered across his lips. Even he doesn't seem to be in control right now, confused at his own emotion. Dave understood.

"Yeah. You remember them, don't you. A Dave's a Dave, no matter the timeline." Dave shrugged. "If we're in the same stream, why not just share it."

"You know why! Because time doesn't fucking _work_ like that!" Davesprite exclaimed. "Split the timeline and you get _doubles_. One for you, one for me, and there's nothing in between!"

"But you came back," said Dave. "So that's one timeline. _And_ you lived. I'm pretty sure that makes this your timeline, too, since it followed some fucked-up convoluted yet totally logical timestream. You left. You came back. You lived. Now we share it."

"It doesn't work like that! There are two people who get two timelines and if one gets fucked up, you're screwed from the start. You don't get anything back!"

"I'm pretty sure it does." Dave raked his fingers through his hair, starting to feel a little at a loss. It wasn't ground-breaking ideology, here. These were the rules Dave had always known and he had _thought_ would always know. Maybe not, if Davesprite was any indication of the future that could have been.

"It doesn't!"

"Look. Even if it doesn't work like that—which I promise you, it really, _really_ does—who gives a shit. Your friends don't. Your family doesn't. The moment the timeline splits, that gives you two different people. Different experiences, different lives. Fucking fundamentals here, dipshit. You're just as entitled to anything as I am."

"You can spout bullshit like that all you want, it doesn't make it true."

"You're right. What makes it true is _me being the hero of time._ I don't just know the rules, I fucking _make_ them. If I say our timelines joined up, that means they fucking _did_. No more 'yours' or 'mine', it just _is_."

"Nice sentiment. A little late."

"It doesn't have to be." Dave hesitated, then lifted his hand and slid his shades from his face. "We can still be friends. We can make it work. We can make it _happen_."

"Don't quote that shit at me, I haven't read it since I was the one making it."

"Didn't even read it then," said Dave.

"Yeah." Davesprite winced, as though he hadn't expected to agree. He dropped his gaze to his feet. "I can't be like that."

"You don't have to be. That's the way it is, though, so if you ever want to—"

"You can't tell Jade."

"What." Even Dave was thrown by this sudden outburst.

"I don't—I don't care what you do, or what you tell me, but you _can't. Tell. Jade._ She can't know I'm here. Ever. That is straight up non-negotiable."

"…Yeah." Dave nodded. "I get it. I won't tell her."

"Good." Davesprite was still cautious, but there remained enough of a vestigial understanding between the two of them that he knew Dave understood. "Alright."

"So…you wanna grab a drink or what."

Davesprite stared blatantly, weighing his options as Dave returned his shades to his face. At the time, it had been tense enough to deserve the unveiling of his demon peepers, but now he was starting to feel sick and the moment had passed. "Yeah. Alright. You're paying, though. I'm going to bleed you dry, fucker. You'll be living it up as a hobo by the time the night is over."

Dave allowed for one brief smile. "Cool."


	107. Lens 107

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

"You really think I'd let it go with just that?"

Dave swivelled around in his chair, crimson glare hidden behind his tinted specs but noticeable enough to pull an amused smirk across his brother's lips.

"You're not going to win this, bro. There are only two ways we can do this, and they both end in my favour. What's it going to be, little dude? The easy way or the hard way?"

"Fuck off," said Dave.

"Come on, man. Ditch the teenage angst and just talk to me. We can do this nice and simple. You tell me what's up, I shooshpap your ass back to happy town and you're on the road to recovery before sunset."

"Just leave me the hell alone."

"Or," said Bro, "we can strife it out."

"Neither. I chose fucking neither, final answer, game over."

"The game's not over until I decide it's over, lil bro. The only thing you get to choose is how we play. Now, what's it going to be? Easy? Or hard?"

"Get out of my room!" Cool be damned, Dave grabbed the first thing that came to his hand-a record case-and whipped it at his brother.

Before the case even hit the opposite wall, Dave was flat on his back, the wheels of his chair spinning uselessly under him. Bro leaned down over him, expression blank save for the slight draw of his eyebrows.

"Hey."

A shiver ran down Dave's back and he felt his breath catching uncomfortably in his lungs. "Stop."

"This is option C," Bro replied. "We talk it out right now."

"Bro, stop." The choking heat began to rise in his chest, curling in his throat and cutting off his airway.

"Talk to me."

"Stop."

In reply, Bro reached over and, with a deft twitch of his fingers, snatched the shades from Dave's face. Just as carefully, he pulled his own off, catching Dave's upside-down gaze and holding it.

"There," said Bro, "we're even."

"Give them back," Dave said, his shoulders beginning to tremble. He was a mess right now, lame and childish, but he couldn't stop himself. He didn't even _think_ to stop himself. "Give them back, you asshole!"  
>"Shoosh," said Bro, patting him on the cheek. "Calm down."<p>

"I can't calm down, that's the problem!"  
>"I know. Just try. Relax," Bro soothed.<p>

"Let me up," said Dave.

"Will you run?"

"No."

Bro straightened up, releasing Dave from the prison. Dave rolled to his feet, brushing himself off a little, feigning cool with an offhand sigh, and then-

BANG.

Dave was back on the floor again, Bro's hand wrapped neatly around his ankle.

"Give it another fifty years before you try and beat me at flashstepping, kid," said Bro. Dave just answered with a groan.

"Fuck you."

"Going to lie there in faceplant mode all day?"

"Maybe I will. Maybe this floor is the softest fucking floor I ever did lie on. Maybe I want to make love to this floor. This floor is my bitch. I will do with it as I please."

"Your mouth's gone into overdrive, time to reel it back in," Bro said. He crawled up and sat on Dave's back, pinning him to the floor and knocking the breath out of the kid with a _whuff_.

"You aren't helping. In fact, you're hurting. This is what hurting is, and you are doing it. Get the fuck off me." Dave squirmed, but Bro just crossed his legs.

"Gotta keep you in your place somehow. Besides, I thought you loved the floor. Just giving you and the bride-to-be some quality time."

Out of options, Dave just let himself fall limp. He wasn't going to win against his brother with brute strength; he was too tired and too broken to even try. Instead, he pressed his cheek against the cool floorboards, letting the air drain from his lungs in a slow, silent sigh.

"Good kid." Bro reached one hand over and began to rub Dave's shoulder. It was rough, but Dave started to relax a little, too conditioned from his childhood years being comforted in that manner to fight back. "There you go. Now talk."

"I don't know what to say."

Bro snorted. "That's never stopped you before."

"I'm..." Dave trails off, his non-sentence choked off before he even considered the end.

"You're what?" Bro replied. "Come on. It's glasses pact time, that means you can be as uncool as you need to be and I will only judge you internally. Out with it." He dug the heel of his palm into Dave's back, working at a little knot in the muscle until Dave complied.

"I'm...scared."

"Of what? The game?"

"I don't know. I don't know anymore." Dave clenched his hands into fists at his sides.

"Alright."

"I'm freaking out, Bro."

"I can see that." At this point, Bro had turned around and begun digging at Dave's back with both hands, probing for knots as though they had just finished strifing.

"I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything. Just chill with me. I'll take a few days off and we'll have some good bro-on-bro time where I whup your ass at a variety of activities, ranging from video games to rooftop rap battles."

"It won't help."

"I know. It'll take more than that to help fix you up." Bro sighed, defeat uncharacteristic for him, and he lightened his touches a little. "I do know, however, that you kids fare better when there's someone there to keep an eye on you. Come on. We'll take a vacation, fit in a little R&R and you'll be back to your nerdy little self in no time."

"It hurts."

Bro pulled his hands away immediately, but Dave shook his head as well as he could while remaining plastered to the floor.

"No. My chest hurts."

"Am I to heavy for that piddly little frame of yours?"

"No. My chest hurts. It's hot and I can't breathe."

Bro slid off Dave's back and rolled the kid over, sliding a leather-clad hand over his eyes. "It's alright. Just breathe."

"I can't. Bro, I can't."

"Yes, you can. Just chill. It's just us, and nothing's going to get you. You're safe."

Slowly, Dave's laboured breathing evened out and he began to relax again. "This is so lame."

"Utterly. You lose major cool points for this."

"Great." Dave blinked a few times against the warm glove, then closed his eyes. "A vacation, huh. I guess that'd be okay."

"Well, don't get your hopes up. It's not so much ski slopes or beaches so much as sweltering city Texas with a box of pizza and a cabinet full of video games."

"What, you mean that's not a vacation. Where the fuck have you been living."

Bro snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Alright. I'll get it scheduled." He moved to stand, but Dave caught him firmly around the wrist and held him in place.

"Not yet." The words that had started as a command in his mouth left as a pleading whisper, and Bro relented. He sat down again, still shielding his little brother's eyes, and leaned back against the bed to stare at the ceiling.

"Sure," Bro agreed. "Not yet."


	108. Lens 108

**Obscura ~ Age 20**

The nights were the worst.

Dave could handle days. They were full of distractions. He could spend his time worrying about Jade and John, help fuss over them like a fucking mother hen with Rose. He was strong because he had to be strong.

Nights were different. Nights were alone time, time that the smoky heat that lay dormant in his stomach rose up through his throat, choking him. He couldn't ignore it with everyone asleep, with no one to take his mind off things.

Watching them made it worse.

So Dave had started running away. Not legitimate running away, that is, just far enough that he could be alone in his own little corner of Lalonde's cavernous house. He could curl up and hate the world in peace.

The prickling behind his eyes had already started by the time he reached the attic door. He rubbed at it with his palm, annoyed. He was supposed to be alright. He was supposed to be dependable now, like Rose.

The door was already ajar, but he took no heed and nudged it open the rest of the way. He was about to go to the window, as had become habit, but a quiet snuffling sound gave him pause.

Dave quickly arranged his slipping features back into poker face as he cautiously rounded the stack of boxes. He could just make out the top of Rose's head, bobbing slightly in time with the sniffs.

"Lalonde."

There was a loud thump and a curse as a startled Rose banged some appendage on something in surprise. Dave made his way around the debris to find her tucked away between the piles.

"Hey."

Rose didn't say anything. She rubbed furiously at her eyes, trying to maintain composure despite her current state.

Dave knelt down in front of her. "Hey."

"Making the rounds, are you?" she asked, voice surprisingly steady. "Can't go to sleep without everyone tucked away in bed like good little children?"

"Nah." He reached out to pet her hair gently. "I'm not a fathering kind of guy. You alright, Lalonde."

"Do I look alright to you?"

Dave shrugged. "In my experience, it's best a dude doesn't go saying things that could be miscontrued as really damned insulting, if you get my drift."

Rose pushed his hand away. "It doesn't matter."

"Come on, Lalonde. It's just me. We're in this together, Freud and Eminem, mixing it up."

"Stop. Stop right there. I don't want to hear it."

Dave sighed and slid over so that his back rested against one of the stacks of boxes. "I'm serious, Lalonde. It's just me. You can trust me."

"I'm scared, Strider. I don't know what to do anymore. I am so damned lost and nothing seems to be working. They're going to die and it's my fault."

Dave's chest tightened. "No one is going to die, Lalonde. I promise."

"Everything is horrible."

"Yeah. Only place to go is up."

Without warning, Rose crawled over and buried her face in Dave's chest. He panicked on the inside, but still managed to maintain his facade of cool on the out, patting her shoulder like a dude that wasn't out of his mind in terror.

"It's alright, Lalonde. I'm here too. We've got this. Just don't give up," he said, mouth on autopilot. He waited as she settled in between his legs, then wrapped his arms around her. "It's alright."

"I'm sorry, Strider," she mumbled. "I know you don't like being touched."

"Sometimes I'm alright."

"Give me a few minutes and I'll release you back to whatever surely questionable endeavours you were engaged with."

"Take as long as you need." He stroked her hair and she moved to rest her cheek on his chest. "We can't expect to put all this shit on you without it taking its toll."

"You should be able to. It's what I'm supposed to do. It's what I'm training to do."

"There's a reason why doctors can't treat family, Lalonde."

"We don't have the luxury of that!"

"Shoosh." Dave's hand travelled down to her shoulder, where he started kneading a pressure point. "I know. That's just how it is, Lalonde, you can't fight it. There are going to be some problems, but you're doing your best."

"It's not good enough."

"It's plenty good enough. You'll see."

"And what? Am I supposed to believe that you're faring just fine?"

"I'm fucking peachy is what I am," Dave replied. "All fixed. See. You're goddamn magical."

Rose lifted her hands to Dave's face and he froze momentarily, his blood running cold. No. No, he had to be strong. Rose had enough to deal with as it was. He could just suck it up.

Dave resumed his half-massage and Rose pulled his shades away. Their eyes met for a moment before Dave ruffled her hair and leaned back.

Suspicious, Rose folded the glasses in her hands. "You look tired."

"Thanks. So do you."

"I mean it, Strider."

"I'd like to direct you to the clock reading 3 a.m. off in that corner."

"This isn't a joke. You are sleeping, right?"

"I'm sleeping, Lalonde. I'm eating, too." Dave patted his stomach in emphasis. "See. The spitting image of health."

"You are a shit liar without your glasses, Dave."

Dave felt the blood drain from his face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's only to be expected. You've only ever needed to lie with the bottom half."

"I'm not lying."

"We're supposed to be telling the truth. That includes you. You have to tell me if you're feeling poorly, Dave, because I can't help you if you're not."

After a moment's consideration, Dave crushed Rose to his chest, burying his face in her hair. "Look. I'm...it's just hard. Seeing both of them in such rough shape all the time is kind of suffocating. But I'm not like them. This isn't the same."

"But you _are_ suffering."

"No. Yes. Jesus, Lalonde, that's a stupid fucking question. Lose-lose situation all around. It's hard and it sucks but I'm not crashing. I'm not going to crash. I can't afford to and you can't afford me to, don't even fight me on this."

"Dave-"

"Rose." Dave gripped her arms suddenly, pushing her away and meeting her gaze. "Just let me win this one time. You know you have to, it's not even a choice. We can't afford this right now. I'll stick it through and then when it's all over, we can revisit the issue, alright."

"I am not going to let you-"

"Too bad. You have to. I'm okay, Lalonde, as okay as I'm going to be in a situation as motherfucking bleak as this. We're going to get them through this, but if we're going to do that then I have to man up and do the sports. I am not the priority here."

Rose stared at him hard for a moment, then relented. "Alright. However. If you get any worse-any worse at all-you are to tell me immediately. No one is sacrificing themself here."

"Same deal goes for you, sweetheart," Dave shot back. "I'm not losing my one and only lil sis to something dumb as this. We're a team, got that. We are going to win all the goals."

This coaxed a tiny smile from Rose's lips. "Yes. We will score the trophies."

"Everything's going to be alright."

"...Yes."

"Good girl." Dave ruffled her hair again, and there was silence.


	109. Lens 109

**Obscura ~ Age 25**

Dave sat in the waiting room, slumped low enough in the chair for his nose to rest on his chest, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Would you fucking stop that."

Pausing his incessant leg jiggling, Dave sat up. He didn't have a witty retort. He simply said, "Sorry."

The ginger kid looked away again and said nothing.

Though they were sitting side-by-side, the kid was taking special, pointed care not to cross the invisible boundary between them. His knees were tucked to his chest, white arms wrapped tight around his legs. Not even an elbow stuck out.

"Hey," said Dave.

"What," said Davesprite.

"Are you okay, man."

"Do I fucking look okay to you. Are _you_ even fucking okay, because you're stomping out a goddamn samba and I know that's normal because I fucking _am_ you." The bite in the kid's tone was bitter harsh and it took Dave by surprise for a moment.

"I'm not okay," Dave said in a rare moment of truth.

"Then there's your answer," his miniature self replied.

For reasons even Dave couldn't understand, he tried to keep up the conversation. "Are you going to stay the night."

Dave predicted the answer before the bird boy opened his mouth. "Are you."

"Yeah."

"Then you're fucking two for two now, aren't you. Congratulations, you win all of the prizes."

Dave sighed and pretended to watch the sterile door across from them. In reality, he was watching Davesprite out of the corner of his eye, trying to glean whatever information from the boy he could. It was a cheap tactic to keep his tired mind awake and away from the feelings of dread threatening to drown him stomach-up, but it worked.

"Stop that," said Davesprite.

"Stop what."

"Stop staring at me."

"I'm not staring at you."

For a moment, Davesprite uncurled from his tight little ball, fists clenched hard enough to turn his knuckles white. "Yes, you're fucking staring at me. Did you forget who I am? I know every fucking detail about you, asshole, and that means _I know you're staring at me!_"

Before Davesprite could unleash another torrent of words, Dave grabbed his head and clapped a hand over his mouth. The silent room seemed to ring the kid's unnaturally loud outburst and even Davesprite seemed to realize what he'd done wrong because he stayed stalk still under Dave's grip.

A long minute passed before either of them dared to breathe again.

"Keep your voice down," Dave murmured. Davesprite said nothing, opting to tuck himself back into his original position. After another couple minutes, Dave began to watch him once more. This time, Davesprite had either lost interest and didn't notice, or else he had decided to ignore his alternate self altogether. Dave supposed it was the latter.

He watched as the small kid lowered his chin back to his knees, a thousand questions still bubbling in his mind from the violent moment they met. He didn't ask any of them. He traced the jagged outline of Davesprite's shoulders, the bumps of his spine that were just visible under his orange t-shirt. The kid was small and skinny, but the shape of his arms showed he was toned, too.

Dave wasn't sure, but he thought he could _just_ see the telltale hints of freckles peeking out from behind the kid's shades. It was almost endearing.

He was sure Davesprite hated it.

"Are you scared."

Dave started in surprise. Davesprite had actually taken the initiative to start a conversation and, for a moment, he was at a loss for words. "Yeah," Dave said finally. "Yeah. I am."

"Me too," said Davesprite.

Slowly, with steady, deliberate motions, Dave reached an arm out and slipped it around his doppelganger's shoulders. There was a tense moment when Dave wasn't sure if the kid would lash out and hit him with all the force he had behind those lean muscles (which he thought could be a surprising amount) and shout.

The moment passed.

Davesprite seemed to have considered his options and, just as carefully as Dave, he leaned over the invisible barrier just an inch to rest his head against his alpha's self's shoulder.

Dave could feel the shivering beneath his arm. He sighed silently and rubbed Davesprite's arm with his thumb.

It looked like it was going to be a hard night for all of them.


	110. Lens 110

**Obscura ~ Age 19**

"Morning, Dave."

Dave's very breath froze in his chest. He tried to open his mouth to reply, but no words came. Unperturbed, Jade pressed her cheek against his arm and rested her hands against his chest.

"I missed you. It's lonely here, Dave, and it drives me a little crazy. I miss seeing my friends. It's so scary, being alone. It makes everything so much worse until I just…can't handle it anymore." She laughed, though there was no humour in her voice. "And then that happens, I guess."

Thankfully, Dave's body decided to act and he reached out to stroke her hair. "It's cool. I get it."

"No, you don't get it, Dave. I know it's lonely for you, too, because everyone is always so far away, but it's not the same. I'm the only one here, Dave. I—I know I have Bec, but…he's just a dog. He can't say anything. I love him and he's wonderful, but he…he just…exists."

"Then come live with me." The words tumbled from Dave's mouth before he could process what he was saying. He started at his own brash statement, but found he agreed with it. "Yeah. Come live with me. Or any of us. Whoever you want, I'm sure we could work something out. It doesn't have to be forever. Just…just get you off this fucking island for a little while. Help you sleep."

Jade curled into his chest, hands circling his waist. "No…I can't."

"Why not."

"Bec…"

"So take him with you. Or let him take you. Free plane ticket."

"I…I couldn't, Dave."

"Why not." He felt reckless now, a burgeoning rebellion surging through his veins. He brushed her hair from her face and kissed it. "Come with me. As long as you want. Could be a week, could be a month. I don't care. Just…stay with another person for a little while. You need it."

"…Yeah." With that murmured agreement, she pulled him close. Dave was suddenly very aware of their nakedness, and he struggled to come up with something decent to say.

"B…breasts," said Dave. Fuck! God dammit!

To his surprise, Jade giggled. "Yeah. You want me to put some clothes on?"

"I…no, I'm good. I mean, unless you want to, uh…"

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands. "Wow, way to be smooth, Mr. Coolkid. I bet you get laid less than I do, and you don't even have an excuse!"

"How about you shut up, Harley, didn't see you complaining."

"I wasn't." She kissed him quickly before pressing her forehead to his collarbones, still laughing. "Thanks, Dave."

"I…for what?"

"You're silly. It makes me feel better." Her hands slid from his face to rest on his shoulders. "Especially when you lose your cool."

"Excuse me, when the fuck did I lose my cool."

"Last night! And right now. Your cheeks are so red."

"They are not."

"They totally are."

"Shut up."

"Come on, coolkid. It's cute. And it makes me happy."

"…yeah, alright. For you." Dave slid a hand up her back to rub her shoulders. "You have a good sleep, then."

"It was okay. But I slept."

"Good girl." The cold feeling that had stewed in the pit of his stomach since he awoke had begun to dissipate with her every word and was now all but vanished. He exhaled long and content, giving Jade a firm hug and kissing the top of her head. "Try to get some more rest."

"I will."

"And think about what I said before."

"About living with you?"

"…yeah. Or something. We'll figure it out. Whatever you want. Just think about it."

"I already did, Dave. You go home and when you get there, I'll have Bec take me back. Just for a little while."

In the warmth of Jade's embrace, Dave allowed himself a little smile. "Cool."


End file.
